Read Online The Book of James by Ellen J. Green - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ellen J. Green
Ads: Link
from the kettle, testing the temperature with her fingers until it was hot enough. She sunk both arms into the scalding water, the heat radiating up her skin, burning it. She scrubbed the cups hard, trying to get rid of the darkness in her mind that made it hard to think.
Her skin felt a sharp slice as the china, so resilient and yet so fragile, broke beneath her fingers. Red inkiness spread through the soapy water. She stared at its pattern, not moving her hands.
“Damn you, Nick.” The words sputtered from her lips. She
smashed the cup against the side of the sink again and again, the pieces falling back into the water or embedding themselves into
the scarred skin on her fingers. “Damn you to hel .”
CHAPTER 13
The Bishop’s Col ar pub was busy and noisy when I took a seat at
an outside table. I ordered a turkey burger and Phil y Pale Ale. The group at the next table over wore Phillies caps and shirts. The beer was flowing; apparently their team had won this afternoon’s game, clinching the division championship.
I dumped the plastic bag full of Nick’s possessions onto the
table and spread them out. This was all that was left of my hus-
band that was familiar. The mother in the fortress belonged to a
stranger. I picked up his keys and flipped through them. One was
bent, probably from the collision when the dashboard had folded
down into the car, pinning Nick to his seat. I held his house key for a minute, feeling a fleeting sense of comfort. This key opened the door to a place I knew intimately. There was pain there, yes, but it was something I had created. My own mess. Not someone else’s.
Just then a reveler jostled my table; my beer tipped, saturating
the cream-linen tablecloth. I grabbed Nick’s things in my arms so they didn’t get soaked.
“Sorry.” The man’s voice was slurred. His breath reeked of alco-
hol. He stumbled backward.
60
ELLEN J. GREEN
The waitress rushed in to clear things off. Several minutes
later, the tablecloth and my beer were brand new. “Celebrating.”
She nodded toward the rowdy people. “I think you dropped this.”
She tossed some folded papers in front of me. I took a sip of
beer, then pried them apart. Some of Nick’s collection from the
plastic bag—it had fallen from the table during the commotion.
The last time I’d looked through his things, I’d been in a different state of mind. I had more information now. A more discerning eye.
The receipt for tool rental from the Home Depot lay folded
into thirds. The day the bathroom sink broke seemed like a life-
time ago. Water everywhere, spilling out onto the floor. Towels,
buckets—and hours later, Nick had replaced piping and washers
and nearly ruined the new tile floor we’d just installed. The nor-malcy of it all made me smile.
I pulled the receipt apart; a thin white letter-sized envelope fell out. It had been folded like an accordion, pressed flat so that it fit neatly inside the receipt. I tore at the seal and pulled out a piece of paper the size of a business card. JAMES 5 6 was printed neatly in block letters in the center. That was it. The rest of the card was empty. A stamp was pressed neatly in the upper-right-hand corner
of the envelope, but he’d never addressed it.
The noise of the festivities faded behind me. My hands began
to shake, and the beer in my mouth refused to go down my throat.
My entire body was tingling. This was all real. All of it. They’l come after you. Hurt or even kill you. The only way to end this is to get to them first. Stay there. Find James. Nick’s words were there again in my ear. An eerie feeling crept up my spine, and I scanned the surrounding tables, looking for someone odd, a single stranger who
might have followed me, watching me. Nothing. Just then my cell
phone rang.
“Hey, hey.” Samantha’s familiar voice was at the other end.
“I’ve never been happier to hear a voice in my life.” My breath
came out in a whoosh.
THE BOOK
Her skin felt a sharp slice as the china, so resilient and yet so fragile, broke beneath her fingers. Red inkiness spread through the soapy water. She stared at its pattern, not moving her hands.
“Damn you, Nick.” The words sputtered from her lips. She
smashed the cup against the side of the sink again and again, the pieces falling back into the water or embedding themselves into
the scarred skin on her fingers. “Damn you to hel .”
CHAPTER 13
The Bishop’s Col ar pub was busy and noisy when I took a seat at
an outside table. I ordered a turkey burger and Phil y Pale Ale. The group at the next table over wore Phillies caps and shirts. The beer was flowing; apparently their team had won this afternoon’s game, clinching the division championship.
I dumped the plastic bag full of Nick’s possessions onto the
table and spread them out. This was all that was left of my hus-
band that was familiar. The mother in the fortress belonged to a
stranger. I picked up his keys and flipped through them. One was
bent, probably from the collision when the dashboard had folded
down into the car, pinning Nick to his seat. I held his house key for a minute, feeling a fleeting sense of comfort. This key opened the door to a place I knew intimately. There was pain there, yes, but it was something I had created. My own mess. Not someone else’s.
Just then a reveler jostled my table; my beer tipped, saturating
the cream-linen tablecloth. I grabbed Nick’s things in my arms so they didn’t get soaked.
“Sorry.” The man’s voice was slurred. His breath reeked of alco-
hol. He stumbled backward.
60
ELLEN J. GREEN
The waitress rushed in to clear things off. Several minutes
later, the tablecloth and my beer were brand new. “Celebrating.”
She nodded toward the rowdy people. “I think you dropped this.”
She tossed some folded papers in front of me. I took a sip of
beer, then pried them apart. Some of Nick’s collection from the
plastic bag—it had fallen from the table during the commotion.
The last time I’d looked through his things, I’d been in a different state of mind. I had more information now. A more discerning eye.
The receipt for tool rental from the Home Depot lay folded
into thirds. The day the bathroom sink broke seemed like a life-
time ago. Water everywhere, spilling out onto the floor. Towels,
buckets—and hours later, Nick had replaced piping and washers
and nearly ruined the new tile floor we’d just installed. The nor-malcy of it all made me smile.
I pulled the receipt apart; a thin white letter-sized envelope fell out. It had been folded like an accordion, pressed flat so that it fit neatly inside the receipt. I tore at the seal and pulled out a piece of paper the size of a business card. JAMES 5 6 was printed neatly in block letters in the center. That was it. The rest of the card was empty. A stamp was pressed neatly in the upper-right-hand corner
of the envelope, but he’d never addressed it.
The noise of the festivities faded behind me. My hands began
to shake, and the beer in my mouth refused to go down my throat.
My entire body was tingling. This was all real. All of it. They’l come after you. Hurt or even kill you. The only way to end this is to get to them first. Stay there. Find James. Nick’s words were there again in my ear. An eerie feeling crept up my spine, and I scanned the surrounding tables, looking for someone odd, a single stranger who
might have followed me, watching me. Nothing. Just then my cell
phone rang.
“Hey, hey.” Samantha’s familiar voice was at the other end.
“I’ve never been happier to hear a voice in my life.” My breath
came out in a whoosh.
THE BOOK
Similar Books
