Page 39 of Off the Stick
I shake those thoughts away for now as we move past her room and the bathroom, then into the bedroom at the end of the hallway.
Other than a few baby photos of Lenni, a picture of Halle and Lenni together, and a family picture with Lenni wearing a red coat being held by one of her uncles as they pose in front of a giant outdoor Christmas tree, the room is sparsely decorated.The Christmas scene looks vaguely familiar, however.I think I went to that exact location once when I lived with my billet family.It’s the annual tree-lighting ceremony at the local community township center.
Other than that, the room has a closet that sports a broken slatted door hanging off its hinges and unopened moving boxes stacked inside.
As I skirt around some scattered clothes on the floor, Halle sniffles and mutters something into my chest that sounds like “I’ve missed you.”
It could be wishful thinking on my part that she still has feelings for me too.Or it could be just some fever-dream nonsense said in a fog of illness and a fever, but I can’t help but preen under the weight of the statement.
“I’ve missed you, too, Cherry,” I whisper back, kissing the top of her head.
I gently lay her down and grab the edge of the blanket at her feet, dragging it up her legs and covering her torso.As I try to tuck her arms inside, Halle’s hands spring up and loop around my head, catching me off guard.With surprising strength for a woman half my size and under the effects of a virus, she tugs me down into a tight hug.
“Dane… the only one.”The words are spoken so softly, and without context, that I barely understand them.
The only one what?
Then her hands slip from my neck, and, exhausted from the energy it took to hold them there, she closes her eyes, rolling on her side and falling back to sleep almost instantly.
I brush the hair from her face and place another kiss on the top of her forehead before I leave the room.A quick check on Lenni, who is still playing with her doll and castle, and I return to the bedroom a few moments later, glasses of juice and water in hand, and place them next to Halle on her bedside table.
When I set them down, I notice a painted jewelry box with its lid partially propped open.Only a few items are inside.A set of pearls that maybe belonged to her mom.A pair of gold hoop earrings.And a plastic hockey puck key ring.
I squint and pick it up, examining it in my hand.
Nah, it couldn’t be.
Flipping it around my finger, I study it further as memories resurface of a date when we played games at an arcade.Having won enough game tickets for a prize, this was the one she picked out, so I got it for her.
Why would she have kept this cheap trinket all these years?
Unless… it holds meaning.
A memento of some kind to remember me?I rub a palm over my stubbled jaw and consider the words she just spoke—even if she hadn’t been quite lucid—and try to piece together what it all could mean.
The only one… What, though?
It would make sense, I suppose, that she could’ve meant I’m the only one she could call tonight.I’m likely the only person she knows in Vancouver who could help her out in a pinch, so logically, that calculates.
But my gut needs a deeper meaning hidden in the words, one that connects our past with the present.
What if she meant I’m the only one she would trust to take care of her and Lenni?
I consider that as a plausible explanation, mulling it over in my head as I replace the keepsake back into the box where I found it.
Something niggles inside me, though, and I theorize one more explanation.
What if she meant that I’m the only one she’s ever loved?
I don’t have time to examine that theory, though, because a tiny hand reaches for my wrist and tugs me out the doorway.
“Come on, Ax.Time to play wiff me.”
20
Halle
I wake slowly and, with Herculean effort, pry my eyelids open.But as soon as I do, the room swims in a gauzy haze, like I’m looking through murky waters.My lids fall closed again.
