Page 75 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
She turned, holding up her hand, firmly interlocked with Dana Reevesworth’s. “Dana, this is Collin, my brother. Collin, this is my little sprite, Dana.”
Collin lowered himself to one knee. Dana wore a poster-boy hat in burgundy wool. She looked a little like Linda. They had the same eyes and oval jaw, same long, lean frame even if Dana was still a diminutive nine-year-old. He offered her his hand. “I’ve been waiting to meet you, Dana.”
“Are you my uncle?” Dana studied him carefully, eyes flicking between Alice and Collin.
“I think, functionally, the answer would be yes.”
Dana nodded, seemingly satisfied. She held her hand above the bandages on Collin’s shoulder. “The bad people hurt you, too?”
“Yes, but we fought back, and we won, just like Alice did.”
Dana nodded soberly. “Winning isn’t promised,” she said. “You must have been brave.”
“Sometimes we have to be,” Collin agreed. “I have a lot to be brave for.” He stood up slowly.
Alice directed Dana to take off her shoes.
Collin motioned them farther inside around the curtain wall. “Would you like to meet more of your family?”
“Do you mean my Uncle Richard and my Uncle Émeric?”
“Yes. You’ll have to be careful with them. They’re like me.” He pointed to his cast and bandages.
Dana nodded, eyes big and serious. “Auntie Hypatia told me how to be careful.”
Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau were in the living room. Alice went first, still holding Dana’s hand. The child hadn’t let go of Alice even once.
“This is Uncle Richard and Uncle Émeric,” Alice said.
Mr. Reevesworth offered a smile. He was lying on the couch with Émeric sitting at his feet. It was something they did frequently these days.
“You’re big.” Dana looked them both over.
Mr. Moreau chuckled. “Do you want some tea? Cookies?”
Dana looked up at Alice. Alice nodded.
Dana took a step forward, letting go of Alice and stepping right in front of Mr. Moreau as if she’d reached a difficult but certain decision. She lifted one hand and hovered it over the side of his face where the bruises were just starting to fade.
Émeric raised his hand slowly, cupping her hand and bringing her hand to his face. Their eyes held for a long time, then Dana drew her hand back. “It’s getting better?”
“Yes,” Émeric affirmed.
Dana nodded. Then she pointed at herself. “I have bruises too, inside. Sometimes they look like they should be like yours, but I can’t see them. Alice says they’ll get better. Like yours.”
Émeric reached out and cupped the side of her head carefully. “Invisible bruises hurt just as much as visible ones. But they can get better. We just have to take our medicine, be brave, and practice living. They have a special word for practicing living.”
“What’s that?”
“Therapy. Some therapy you go to a special gym, where you move your body, and sometimes you sit down with a special person, and they help you move your mind and your heart so you live better.”
Dana blinked. “I think Mama needed therapy. She didn’t know how to live.”
“Why do you say that?” Mr. Reevesworth asked quietly.
Dana looked at him for a long moment. “She always talked about dead people. And about things that weren’t going to happen or were going to happen. But she never wanted to be where I was. Alice says there are three times: before, now, and after now, but we can only breathe in the now.” Dana glanced back at Alice who nodded in encouragement. Dana took in a fortifying breath and turned her eyes back to Mr. Reevesworth. “Mama was never now. I always was, but she wasn’t until…until that day.”
“I wish your mother could have been with you,” Mr. Reevesworth said. “It’s important to be with those who are close to us, but the only time we can do that is in the now time.”
