Page 51 of Deck of Scarlets
Josh cocked his head to the side. “You don’t remember?” I watched as his face revealed the gears turning inside that pretty little head. “So, you don’t know why you woke up all wet?”
“Doesn’t everyone wake up puking water?”
He scratched his head, not quite sure how to answer. “Not really. Are you sure you don’t remember anything?”
Taking a bite of the chicken—which was delicious—I shook my head.
“I’ve never met a Scarlet who didn’t. They usually tell us they were in paradise, greeting the Lord himself, baptizing them in Hundrath Lake,” explained Josh.
I talked around the food I chewed. “Not me.” The more I ate, the better I felt. “It’s like I have a thin layer of film over my memories, and I can’t wipe it away.”
Josh contemplated what I said, leaning forward with his hands underneath his chin. “Maybe with time, it’ll come back to you. Either way, you’re here, and not many can say that.”
Closing the container, satisfied with a full stomach, I leaned back against the comfort of the soft pillows. “I was under the impression that all go through it.”
“Yes, but you could’ve died during the Blessing. Not everyone survives.”
I blinked a few times, trying to understand the words coming out of his mouth. If I made it… did that mean…? Heather’s face came to mind as I shot forward, ready to race out the door, when Josh caged me in his thick arms.
“No, no, Heather!” I thrashed against him, his feet staggering back with every push I gave. I kicked the table, the closed container tumbling to the floor, the contents of my half-eaten food scattering in different directions. We ended up on the other bed, him underneath, my legs kicking in the air. The food I devoured sloshed around in my stomach.
“Remi, please stop!” shouted Josh.
“No! Where is she!?” I screeched. I put all my weight on his stomach, the sound of struggling grunts coming from Josh’s throat. If I continued to push all my weight on him, it might loosen his hold enough to slip through and run.
“Remi…” A whoosh of air escaped from him, “Heather…” he choked, “…is.”
He didn’t have enough air to finish that sentence, when my elbow slammed down on his stomach one more time, knocking the breath completely out of him. I rolled off the bed, slipping to the floor, then regained my balance, sliding on lukewarm rice, and dashed toward the exit.
Before I made it to the door, I slid on a wet spot, only to end up back in the arms of Josh. “Now, let’s behave.”
“Bite me,” I snarled.
“And there goes that apology out the window,” muttered Josh.
“You can shove that apology right up your ass,” I snapped.
“Easy, ya little porcupine,” Josh growled, getting to his feet, keeping me locked tight in his embrace.
“I want to see Heather now,” I demanded, twisting, and shoving against him.
“Would you just hold on a second?”
“I said now.”
“Oh, good, you’re awake.”
We turned our heads to Father Benedict’s voice under the threshold, observing us. His long, flowy white robe touched the floor; his hands clasped securely behind his back. Gold trim lined the bottom and around his sleeves, while intricate art swirled in patterns across his chest. His salt and pepper hair was slicked back neatly, his brown eyes sparkling under the lights.
“Nurse Amelia said your vitals are good,” he mentioned, speaking directly to me.
“So?” I snapped.
The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “So, it would seem the Blessing was a success.”
“Yeah, about that…” I paused. Josh’s eyes were wide with fear, waiting for my response.
“Yes?”