30: Killer

Shyba—

As a cool autumn breeze wafts over me I turn the page, engrossed in the story unfolding in my hands. A couple more months have passed calmly. Before I realized it, I had read through all of Kiara’s books. Now whenever I accompany her to town to help carry bags, we also visit the library.

I have learned so many new words, but more than that the stories really take my mind off things. At times, I look up from a book only to realize hours have passed by. It has strangely become rather soothing. That must be why Jeremiah suggested it.

Suddenly, I am pulled from the story as I come across an unfamiliar word. Glancing up, I notice Kiara coming out onto the porch to sweep. I stand and move from beneath the apricot trees to approach her. Something seems off. She is not humming like usual, and I notice dark circles beneath her eyes.

She has seemed different here lately, though today it seems worse. She hasn’t even wanted to watch movies the last couple nights like usual. Perhaps I should not bother her. Then again, we are friends so I should ask, right? What do I say?

As she turns, she notices me, then glances down at the book. “Do you need help?” Her voice sounds a bit hollow. Is she sick?

“Ah…” I mutter and turn the book to her, pointing to the word.

She looks over. “Oh, ‘savor’. It means uh…” Her eyes drift away. “It can be used for when you’re eating something you like and so you eat it slowly to make it last longer, so you savor it. Or it can be used for feelings too. When you hold onto a memory… or try to make a moment last longer. I’m not sure if I’m explaining this well.”

“I understand,” I tell her and pause before glancing up. “Ah… Are you… okay?”

“Huh? Why?” she asks.

“You do not seem the same,” I mutter.

She pauses and gives me a smile that feels distant and cold. “I’m fine.”

My heart twinges. Something is wrong, but I suppose I should not expect her to talk to me about it. What could I do to help anyway?

“I’ve gotta water the roses,” she mutters quickly, before leaving.

Did I upset her somehow? My chest tightens and I go into the house. There I notice Reba in the kitchen, preparing lunch boxes for the twins. Slowly, I go over and as she notices me, she smiles before her gaze turns quizzical.

“What’s bothering you?” she asks.

For a moment I am unsure what to say. “Kiara is in pain.”

Her eyes widen and she pauses, her gaze dropping to the floor. “So, you noticed. She becomes very depressed during this time. Tomorrow is the anniversary of Paul’s death… She was there when it happened and blames herself. She just needs to grieve right now.”

My chest tightens more. “I see,” I mutter. My heart seems to sink further and further toward the ground. The idea of her hurting like this makes me feel restless. “What can I do?”

She smiles gently. “Just be there for her. You’re friends, right?”

The thought strikes my heart. How exactly do I do that though?

“Tomorrow we will be going to visit his grave. Would you like to join us? I know you didn’t know him, but if you like you can,” she says.

“I will pay my respects,” I tell her. Though I am unsure how exactly to do that here.

She smiles. “He would appreciate that.”

At that she heads off to work and to drop the twins off at school. I finish washing the dishes, setting them in the rack to dry. Then I notice movement out on the front porch and go to look, finding Kiara out sweeping and cleaning off the furniture again. For a moment, I don’t know what to do. Reba said for me to just be there, but what exactly does that mean? Just stand beside her?

I go out and walk up to her. “Is there anything I can do?” I mutter.

She stops sweeping yet continues to gaze down at the porch with tired eyes. “Um… You can finish sweeping off the porch if you want,” she says, handing me the broom.

I take it and watch as she trudges toward the back of the house. Is this all I can do? Why am I so useless?

After a few moments, I hear movement and look over to the barn. She leads Sugar out, before hoisting herself onto the saddle. Then she rides off down the road without a word. Her silence is almost deafening to me. As I go back into the house, I hear Jeremiah’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I gotta go to work so it’ll just be you and Kiara for a while,” he says, heading to the door.

“She just left with Sugar,” I tell him. “She did not say where she was going.”

“Oh.” He lets out a sigh. “She went down to the beach. She goes there every year.”

I pause. “Reba told me,” I mutter. “I want to go with all of you to pay my respects.”

“Really? Thank you,” he says, his voice soft. “I think Dad would have liked you.”

My gaze turns to the floor. What do I say? Can that really be true?

“Anyway, I’m gonna head out. Kiara won’t be gone too long so don’t worry,” he tells me.

He leaves and not long after that I hear the truck start before it fades away. For a moment, I ponder what to do. Everything is just so quiet.

Time passes as I try to keep occupied. However, there is not much to do so I find myself out on the porch, continuing the story from earlier. Out of my peripheral, Hunter runs up. I hold out my hand, my eyes not moving from the page. He sets the ball in my hand then I toss it again, as has become the norm. Sometimes it amazes me how simple and tranquil life is here. More and more each day I find myself thinking that I never want to leave.

A horse whinnying down the road catches my attention and I look up. Hooves pound the road, moving at a fast pace, and then from behind the tree line I notice movement. As I stand, Sugar runs toward the house and it’s almost as if my heart stops. Kiara is not with her.

As she barrels into the yard, the book falls from my hands. Suddenly, I am running onto the road, sprinting toward the beach. As I follow Sugar’s hoof prints my mind races with endless possibilities. What if she is seriously hurt? What if I cannot find her?

Before long, I am gasping for breath, my lungs aching. I push myself, the knot in my stomach becoming heavier. I have to find her. I have to make sure she is safe.

The hoof prints lead me across the beach and up a cliff. Once I reach the top, I catch sight of Kiara, sitting near the cliff edge. What is she doing so close to the edge? A gust of wind blows up, her hair swirling around her shoulders.

Next thing I know, I am staring out the open doors of the balcony, long black hair flowing in the wind as she goes over the railings.

My heart is in my throat, and I am flying toward Kiara. “Yada!” my voice screams.

My arms are around her as I clutch her to me, dragging her away from the edge. My grip tightens, afraid she may slip through my fingers if I don’t hold tight enough.

“Stay,” I mutter, my throat aching. “Onegai…”

“Sh-Shyba?” she mutters, her voice strained.

I look up to see her face streaked from tears and she forces a smile.

“It’s okay. It’s not what you think,” she says.

Slowly, I release her, my chest aching. “Sugar returned alone. I was afraid.”

She lets out an exhausted sigh. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened. Something spooked her and she threw me off. I’ve just been sitting here ever since.”

My heart is in my throat again and I quickly go around in front of her. “Are you hurt?” I ask, looking over her body for injuries.

“Well, I think I twisted my ankle, but that’s about it apart from maybe a couple bruises,” she says and gives me another fake smile. “It’s okay though. I’m fine.”

For a moment I gaze at her, my heart feeling like it is being stabbed. “Kiara…” I glance away and sit before her. “I know you are lying.”

Everything is quiet, the wind carrying the scent of salt from the ocean and a gentle floral scent from her. I hear her sniff and look up, tears in her eyes again as she gazes toward the water, wringing her hands. As she picks at the skin around her thumbs, I notice dried blood on her nails. I knew of her nervous habit, but I had never seen her draw blood before.

Without thinking, I pull the sleeves over my hands and quickly reach over, covering her hands. She stares for a long moment, before looking up at me. Her lip trembles as she looks away.

“Um…” she mutters over a sob. She looks back at me. “C-can I tell you something I never told anyone?”

Her question sets me aback a bit, but I nod. “Mm. You can.”

She sniffles and stares down at the ground with distant eyes. “I… killed my dad…” she mutters, her voice broken and weak.

A knot forms in my stomach, my heart twisting. What do I say?

“I…” Her voice catches and she swallows. “It was a stupid fight… I had a crush on this boy in school and because I was always the weird one and getting bullied a lot, I never thought he would like me back. But he asked me out. I was so happy… But Dad wouldn’t let me go. He said I was too young. S-so, I snuck out.”

Her head lowers and she sniffs. “Someone I thought was my friend picked me up down the road and took me to his house. As soon as I was in the yard I was showered with all kinds of food and drinks as several kids laughed. The dress I had worked so hard on was ruined… E-everything was ruined. I ran down the road crying since Hank lived near there. I showed up on his doorstep a total mess and sobbing my eyes out. He let me use his shower and gave me a change of clothes to wear while we waited for my dad to come get me since Mama was working late.”

“When he got there, he wasn’t angry like I thought he might be. He only held me. I cried in his arms for so long. It felt like ages before we finally got in the car to go home. He never blamed me… N-never said ‘I told you so’… just… ‘I love you Sweet Pea. Everything will be okay’.”

She chokes a sob. “A-and wouldn’t you know it, we made it half-way home when the tire blew and took us off the road.”

For a long moment it is like she tries to find the words she so desperately wants to say. Her breath is uneven as her eyes are fixated on the ground, though I know she is looking far, far away.

“I-It’s still a blur, it all happened so fast. One minute we were fine. Then there was a loud bang and all I can remember is the sound of crunching metal. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the car, the horn was blaring, and the airbags were all out. There was glass everywhere and all in my arms. My head and chest felt wet. And it was dark… S-so dark.”

“I tried to wake him… but he wouldn’t wake up,” she cries, her voice broken with sobs. “No matter what I did he wouldn’t wake up. Then the next thing I knew after that I woke up in the hospital and Mama was crying. Everyone was crying. Th-they said we rolled five times before landing in the ditch.”

“B-but by the time anyone got there he was gone… and they said I was too. Mama said she got there and even after they told her I was gone she started CPR. She didn’t give in and begged for me to come back. She said she was about to give in when I finally took a breath.”

As I listen my heart wrenches, my mind running circles. I never imagined she held this in her heart, that something so horrible happened to her.

“I… killed him… and all I got from the wreck was a concussion, a broken arm, broken ribs and a few fractured bones. I-if it weren’t for me being so stupid, for needing him to come rescue me, he would still be alive today.”

For a long moment all is silent. What should I say?

She sniffles. “He should have just left me there,” she cries, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was stupid, and he died because of it. And what do I have to show for it? I haven’t done anything to prove I was worth being rescued! I’m just an idiot! A killer!”

She continues to sob while my mind reels. For a moment I cannot find the words.

“Kiara… do you…” I mutter and let out a breath. “Do you believe your father would call you that? Do you think he would tell people you killed him?”

I glance up and she is staring at me. “When someone talks about him it is good things. That he was kind and there is a lot of respect of him. I do not think he would call you a killer. And I…”

“You don’t understand!” she cries. “You don’t know how it feels! If it weren’t for me my dad would still be here! I’m the reason he died!”

Her words are like a knife in my chest, and she sobs, her cries broken and raw. The weight in my chest is nearly unbearable.

“I… understand,” I utter out over a knot in my throat, my voice shaking more than I would like. I swallow, my chest tight. “What happened was bad… but was not intentional. You are not a killer Kiara.”

I would know. I am one.

Translations:

“Yada!” = Stop!

“Onegai” = Please