Page 85 of Ezekiel
“I guess it makes sense now,” she stated somewhat sadly, though the corner of her lip turned up in a slight smile. “So, tonight, when Zeke took all my senses away, it was amazing. Until it wasn’t. I had a blindfold over my eyes, my hands and feet tied down, earbuds in my ears.. it was dark and so quiet. It was unnerving. Which, I understand, was the point. But it was so quiet that suddenly I could hear men’s voices. It’s like this part of my brain that had been locked up in a box in the back of my head just burst open.” I watched my brothers’ faces as Talia told the tale of what had happened. Their eyes were each full of interest and concern, but there was no pity. There was only kindness and acceptance of her truth, for which I was eternally grateful.
“I could hear the men’s harsh tones. The way they spoke with such vile hatred. And suddenly I was there. I wasn’t with Zeke. I don’t think I could even have told you who Zeke was at that moment. It was like I forgot everything but that memory. I remember fear almost eating me alive. I remember.” Talia stumbled over her words, choking back a sob. “I remember yelling through the cloth that was tied around my head, through my mouth — just screaming for my mom and dad.” It was like the flashback was happening again, her eyes flitting back and forth as the memories became more clear to her. My hand reached for hers, wanting nothing more than to pull her into my arms and keep her safe.
“But my mom and dad never came. I remember getting hit. Being told to keep quiet. And then… everything else is just fuzzy.” Her hands sort of lifted and then flopped back into her lap, pulling away from my hand, as she sighed in sad frustration and exhaustion. “That’s.. that’s all I really can remember,” Talia ended her story with a shrug.
“You did so well, love,” I praised her, pulling her into my side, my arm wrapped around her protectively. “So well.”
“Talia, is it alright if I ask a few questions?” Levi asked with genuine concern and kindness. Good on him, doing exactly as I had hoped, approaching this logically and methodically. She nodded, leaning into me as she took the comfort I offered.
“Do you remember your parents? Your biological parents?” he asked, leaning forward, his elbows pointed on the table as he clasped his hands under his chin in contemplation. Talia’s brow furrowed as she thought it through.
“No, I don’t think I do. I’m trying. I remember the fear. And calling out for them. I remember… no, I don’t. I just can’t picture them,” she cried out in frustration. “It’s like they are right there. Right past my line of sight. But I can’t picture them.”
“What about their names?” Ollie interjected. I watched as my other brothers nodded in agreement.
“Or maybe where you are from?” Malachi grunted from his shadowy corner.
“I just remember calling them Mom and Dad,” she shrugged again, her expression defeated.
“Hey, it’s okay. Most kids just call their parents Mom and Dad. I don’t think I knew my parent’s names until I was older,” I chuckled, squeezing my arms around her.
“Speaking of, do you have any idea when this was? How old you were? What time of year?” Ruth piped up from beside Levi. That was a brilliant question.
“Well, I know they adopted me here in Zion when I was five. So it had to be before then. I remember… um…” she trailed off, searching the recesses of her mind. “I don’t remember.”
I hated this for her. I hated that I could not help her, other than to sit here like a lousy, lazy fucking lump, squeezing her hand or holding her tight. Like that was going to fucking do anything to truly help her.
“What time of year was it?” Levi pressed further. “Do you remember being sweaty and hot? Or maybe overly cold? Do you remember wearing sleeves, maybe?”
It honestly impressed me. His questions were genius and I could only pray to fucking sky daddy it would help trigger some memory for Talia. Some little kernel of truth that would help us. Help us to help her.
“I was cold. I was wearing something thin. Short-sleeved, I think. I remember the ropes scratching against my forearms and wrists. But I was so cold,” Talia answered, looking at the table, but her eyes were totally unfocused, as though the pictures in her mind were playing out right before her eyes.
“Cold like evening in the fall, perhaps?” Gideon asked. “It would make sense. Wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the daytime, but at night it cools off so much. Even more than it does in the spring.”
“Plus, you usually dress warmer in the spring, after dealing with winter. In the fall, you’re still clinging to those last moments of summer,” Ollie added.
“Wait, wait. That doesn’t make sense, though,” Talia interjected, holding her hands up.
“Why not?” Levi asked, his focus centered on her.
“They did not adopt me until early summer,” she argued.
“Okay?” Gideon shrugged, not making a connection.
“I was adopted by my parents… or whoever… in June. I remember because they didn’t have me at my mother’s birthday; they got me right after. So mid June, or about that time. Plus, that’s what they have always told me. My mother liked to say it was the best belated birthday gift she ever got. Worth the wait,” Talia scoffed those last words, her eyes brimming with tears once more. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was feeling.
“I’m still not seeing the issue,” Gideon protested.
“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Malachi snorted, sipping his whiskey in the corner, leaning back against the wall.
“If they took her in the fall, but didn’t give her to her parents until June… where was she all that time?” Levi’s question hung in the air. The words rattled around in my brain, jarring and visceral, making me want to claw out of my skin with the implications they brought.
“I have no idea,” she barely uttered in a whisper. “Zeke?” she asked, turning to me.
“Yes, love?” I asked her, my eyes searching hers.
“Can we call it? I just… I want to go home now,” she admitted, her shoulders slumping forward in exhaustion, both emotionally and physically. It had been one fucking long night. The longest of my life, in any sense.
