(language in this chapter)

Chapter Three

Six days before/ A South Carolina highway (2 hours outside of Santee)

"Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis,
Gere curam mei finis"

The Requiem Mass played loudly over the jeep's speakers, surrounding me with its timeless music. At that moment I would have loved nothing more than to close my eyes in pure ecstasy, but the fact that I was driving made that a bad idea. Mozart always did that to me, even if I was listening to the same concerto for the thousandth time. It lifted my soul to the heavens, and carried me through the white clouds of relaxation. . . . . .even if I was riding with the most annoying passenger in history.

"Tell me again Lizzy, why are we listening to this crap"

Inwardly I cringed at the way he carelessly labeled the brilliant composition.

James Wilkins. Why, oh WHY did I offer him a ride home?! I turned my head to see his hand reaching for the stereo, his eyes were squinted in concentration.

"Don't touch that radio Jim, or I swear I will give you that bloody nose I've been wanting to since the day we met"

Before turning my eyes back to the road, I noticed with humor that he had quickly set his hand on the center consol. Yes, James Wilkins was the most patient trying man I had ever had the displeasure of meeting…okay, maybe it wasn't entirely unpleasurable. We met quite some time ago when we were just children . . .I was six and he was nine, but even then he was still a bit irritating. He was what you called a rich spoiled country boy with his fine mansion, perfect English parents, and the grandest horse stables in all of South Carolina. I didn't despise him though because of his wealth or even for the fact that he acted like a superficial jerk sometimes. It was because of his naivety and the way he perceived the world like it was some game to be played. Not to mention we dated for a year in high school when I was a freshman, he dumped me a month before prom because I didn't have money to go and my dad wouldn't let me attend. . .I guess that's my fault for even dating him in the first place.

I looked over again to see him staring out the window with those beautiful emerald eyes that long ago had mesmerized me with his slightest glance. He wasn't bad looking, just a bit too boyishly cute for my own tastes now. Well, then again that was before he had joined the Marines. . .everything was different about him. He had curly brown hair which was now pretty much all shaved off because of the high and tight Marines must maintain. His most famous facial characteristic was the Cheshire cat smile that could brighten up even the dimmest of rooms. That smile still existed, but it wasn't the same confident, arrogant toothy grin I had grown to hate yet admire. He definitely had a strong sense of military bearing now, but to me he still somehow seemed like the freckled little boy that chased me around after school.

He had been transferred to the same base where I was stationed, Camp Lejeune. . .just two years ago. To say I was surprised would be an understatement, I was blown away with shock, I had barely even noticed him and if it hadn't been for his unusual tall stature, I wouldn't have. It wasn't only his looks that had changed, most of his naivety had disappeared and it's what I would expect after he had served two rough years in the Middle East. The war had changed him, whether it be into a better man. . .I don't know. The past two years I tried keeping my distance away from him, but in the end I couldn't . . . no matter how he had acted in the past, I couldn't deny him a small friendship. After all, I've known him sixteen years and there was no other female out there that knew him better. . .well, save for his mom.

"So Lizzy, what are your plans now?"

I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed he had turned down the volume almost completely. Before answering, I gave him a cool glare making known my rising aggravation which he took in immediately.

"Jim, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Lizzy anymore?"

His look immediately turned defensive as he rebounded off my attack.

"How many times do I need to tell you not to call me Jim?"

With a smart smile, I turned back to the road and kept my attention there not letting him see the obvious thoughts racing in my head through my hazel eyes.

"Touché James, touché. Why did you turn down my music?"

"I want to talk. . ."

"We have nothing to talk about, and besides I've enjoyed this silent car ride so far. Don't ruin it like you always. . ."

All of a sudden he placed a tight hand on my arm crushing it in his grip……making me nearly jump off the car seat when he shouted.

"What the hell is wrong with you Elizabeth?!"

In erupted rage and unsuppressed anger, I jerked the jeep to the side of the highway before turning to him with an equally dour black expression.

" Me?! What the fuck do you think you're doing James?'

His eyes were aflame with so many different emotions, I couldn't tell which one was influencing his actions and words. I felt a slight pain in my arm where he held it. . .no doubt there would be a slight bruise in a matter of time.

"I'm tired of this. . .of you treating me like a piece of. . .like I'm nothing"

I winced slightly at his tightening grasp, before gaining control of the growing hostile situation. My voice trembled with unnatural calmness and animosity as I threatened him none too lightly.

"Get your hand off me. . ."

As if burned, he quickly flinched away from me turning his body away towards the window. His head hung low, and I weirdly felt a twinge of pain course through my veins. I looked down to my arm and saw a pale imprint of his fingers upon my tan skin. . .but that's not the pain I felt.

We said nothing more to each other the rest of the way home, an awkward silence filled the car like an unwanted pestilence. There was no way I could listen to any more Mozart, not when I was in such a foul mood and I knew deep inside it wasn't James' fault. . . .it was mine.

The day had started out quite horribly, I was leaving my home of three years to go back to the home I had so eagerly left four years ago. My four year contract with the Marine Corps was done, and I would have reenlisted had it not been for my father. He wanted me to go home and help him take care of the farm. . .and then probably marry a local boy, and then what else comes next but having a bunch of kids and growing fat. No, he would never force that life upon me but I knew that's what he wanted out of his only daughter. Well, I had some news for him. . .I wouldn't settle, I just wouldn't. . .not now, not ever. Yes, my father was a changed man. . .he was more open, kind, caring, and all those other things that fathers should be. But that didn't change my aspirations and determined spirit for a prosperous exciting life. Earlier that year I had been accepted to the College of Charleston, and I was to enter this Fall. I was going back home to break the news to my unsuspecting father.

The day had only gotten worse when I had remembered that I offered James a ride home since he lives but ten minutes from me. When we began the drive he had been in a cheery mood, but I had quickly dampened his spirits with my subtle broodiness. My sour emotions had been veiled by the apparent contentment I felt with the classical music. But now my bitterness was revealed for all of South Carolina to see and it was not pretty.

It was already seven when I pulled into the paved road leading up to his parent's elegant mansion. Even though he stayed quiet, I couldn't help but notice him straighten up in his seat with his eyes once again focused on the front instead of the passenger window. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see his eyes brighten with. . . are those tears??? It hit me. . .he hasn't been home in nearly six years. I remembered how his parents had nearly disowned him when he had announced he was enlisting in the Marine Corps after high school. They had refused to speak to him up until two years ago when they received word of his war injury. And now, he was coming home. . . . .home. I lingered over the sweet feeling settling in my stomach at the thought of my father waiting eagerly for me at home. . .I couldn't deny the fact that I had truly missed all of this.

Before long, we were greeted with the full front view of a gorgeous whitewashed eighteenth century home. Two tall pillars stood guard to both sides of the entryway making the grand home seem a bit intimidating to a first comer who's seeing it for the first time. I pulled into the driveway, circling around a fountain, before I stopped the jeep in front of two large hand sculpted doors.

Despite me having turned off the car, James still kept his eyes focused on the windshield, not even blinking once. I slid my hands down to fold in my lap, before timidly looking over to his impassive face. A wet long trail ran down the length of his left cheek alerting me to the fact of his hidden pain. With an unaccustomed wave of compassion washing over me, I laid my hand lightly on his stiff arm. . .only to have him flinch away from me.

I quickly looked down placing my hand back in the safety of my lap. All bitterness and darkness had seemed to die away in the past short minutes, and all that was left in its place was torturing regret.

"I'm sorry James"

It came out barely as a whisper, but I knew he had heard every word. If he acknowledged them. . .I had no clue because before I could even say anything else he was out of the car with his bag in his hand. With the slam of the door came the painful answer to my apology.

Without further thought, I started up the engine and rode away before his parents could have a chance to ask me in for tea or worse. . .dinner. No doubt dad would have had prepared some dinner for us to share together tonight. He would expect me to tell him countless stories of my time away from home. . .no matter how many times he'd heard them before.

On the way back home, my mind flooded with so many different thoughts of the past, present, and future that it was hard to separate one from the other. With a sigh I pulled the window down suddenly finding the enclosed car space to be suffocating. My nostrils were met with the sweet smell of wet grass and that distinguished country aroma. . .or what city people would call an awful stench. To me, it was home.

It didn't take long for me to pull into the familiar dirt pathway leading to the colonial style farm. When I caught sight of the house, my heart nearly dropped at what I saw. . .the whitewash on the house was chipping off and fading in other parts and most of the black shutters on the windows had been destroyed or were hanging by the mere hinges. I stopped the car to the side of the house underneath the shade of a tree and turned it off. Getting out of the car with my bag, I prepared myself to see the full damage of the house up close. I hadn't even made it to the porch when I noticed all the flowers and plants in my small garden dead. The wood railing on the steps leading up to the porch was broken and laid on the ground next to the stairs. Walking up to the porch, I winced at the sound of the old creaky floorboards beneath my light feet. Everything needed tending to. . .the paint, the woodwork, the plants, and I had a feeling that the inside would be the same.

"Dad's been neglecting the house again"

I whispered the obvious under my breath to no one in particular. Stepping up to the door, I pulled back the screen and knocked on the old worn wood. There was no response, so I knocked again before calling out.

"Dad? Come on, open up Dad"

Nothing but silence answered me making me knock once more before giving up. He knew I was coming home, didn't he? Of course he did, he was the one that said he'd be making dinner tonight. Where in the world could he be? I don't think he'd be called on duty tonight, after all it was a Sunday night.

With a groan I walked off the porch to the other side of the house where he usually parks his duty car. . . .nothing. Great, just great! Now, how am I going to get inside with no house keys. Well, I could always kick the door down since it was so old and fragile. . .but then who knows how long it'd take my dad to replace the door since he preferred to build his own woodworks. . . and not too successfully at that.

A thought entered my mind. . .what about my bedroom window? I used to always leave it unlocked in high school for when I'd sneak out and come back home late. My room was right above the roof that covered the front porch making it easy for me to come in and out of the window. Without further thought, I left my bags and went to get the tall ladder from the back shed. I wasn't just going to wait for him to show up. . .it had been a long five hour drive from Camp Lejeune and I wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and reacquaint myself with my old room.

Carefully I set the old ladder against the porch's roof before placing my bags over my shoulder. As I cautiously climbed the ladder the wooden steps groaned against the sudden heavy weight. This thing hadn't been used in more than four years, and my skinny frame had weighed less back when. As soon as I reached the top of the roof, I quickly got off the ladder before kicking it to the ground where it splintered in half. Breathing a sigh of relief, I walked carefully over to the second window on the right being sure not to step on any loose roof panels.

It opened with ease thankfully, and I slipped inside before closing the window. I was greeted with the most welcome site, none of my stuff had been moved since two years ago when I had visited. The same navy blue comforter lay on top of my bed with the mismatching rainbow pillows. My sports' trophies still stood glimmering with the sunlight on top of my armoire with the occasional uniform photograph in between. Various old and new military recruiting posters were tacked to three walls and on the wall behind my bed still hung the flag of the Marine Corps.

"Home, sweet home"

Setting my bag aside on the floor, I walked over to my armoire and pulled out some boxers and a tank top. Even though it was only seven thirty and the sun had yet to set, I found it too hard to suppress the urge to curl up in bed with the familiar scent of my past lulling me to sleep.

Lying in the small yet comfortable bed, I reached over and turned on the fan right next to my face. The South Carolina heat could be unrelenting especially during the beginning month of Summer. . .June. Many thoughts flooded my mind once again now that I was laying still on my back. . .thoughts of the Marine Corps, of my father and his whereabouts, of college, of my uncertain future. . .but most of all of James and the words he had said.

"What the hell is wrong with you Elizabeth"

I've asked myself that question too many times before. . .what WAS wrong with me? For the past year, I like everyone else couldn't help but notice how my usual upbeat outgoing personality had turned darker. . .many days I felt sad and I didn't even know why. And with everything happening lately, the tension had built up and I blew. . . hurting the one man who cared for me most. . .James. I was not blind to the fact he loved me, but I chose to act blind for his and my own good. No relationship is a good one. . .

Pushing all those thoughts deep down in my mind, I concentrated on some much needed rest. With a sigh, I turned over on my stomach and easily fell asleep whilst listening to the gentle whirring of the fan's blades.

XxX

Three hours later

A police car drove up the dirt road to the house, parking it in the usual spot. A tall toned man slowly got out of the car as if his muscles were stiff to the bone. Shutting and locking the door, he lifted his arms above his head for a quick much needed stretch. His short brown hair glowed in the pale moonlight whilst his turquoise eyes sparkled with an untold emotion. One could also easily see the sheriff's badge shimmering brightly on his pushed out chest. Stretching his tight back, he let out a small deep groan when a bone popped. He brought his arms back down and straightened up before turning up his face to look at the ethereal full moon. A smile brightened his handsome features as he soaked in the glorious beauty.

"Katherine. . ."

He whispered his dead wife's name as a sweet prayer whilst keeping his eyes focused on the bright star. His smile faded as the small wrinkles around his nose, eyes, and on his forehead creased slightly in thought as he began the usual prayer to her.

"Katherine, our Elizabeth has finally come back home. . . . . . . ."

He stopped speaking for a moment, getting caught up in the moment of what he was about to say. Tears glimmered in his eyes before they slowly erupted and cascaded down his freshly shaven face. He spoke up again with a trembling voice of uncertainty.

". . . . . . Not for long though. I can't be selfish and keep her young wild spirit on this old farm. She deserves a better. . .fuller life. Katherine, it's time for your family to meet her. I'm going to send her to England to live with your parents, she's going to study at the same university you did. They've agreed to welcome her into their home with open arms. . . . . . . . . .you know they will love her as we do"

For the first time he lowered his head down as if in defeat and muttered with a broken voice.

". . . . I will miss her"

He stood still for a minute, not speaking, not moving. . . save for his heaving shoulders and short gasps for air. The moon's eerie light seemed to glow on nothing but the solo form of the sobbing man. . .darkness dared not approach him. With a deep breath, he regained his composition, and straightened up before saying his final words.

" I have made many mistakes since you've gone. . .but no more. It's time to let go Katherine. . ."

Looking up once more to the bright star in the sky, he closed the lovers' prayer with a permanent farewell. His voice held nothing of remorse or regret, but it was strongly full of hope and a cheerful optimism.

"Until we meet again Katie. . ."

Without further hesitation, he turned with a lighter foot and walked up to the porch taking out the house key. He pulled back the squeaky screen door and unlocked the door whilst entertaining thoughts of Liz's whereabouts. He had seen Liz's car when pulling in, could she already be inside? An idea entered his mind making him walk away from the door to the right side railing of the porch. There on the ground barely visible in the moonlight lay his old ladder broken in half. A toothy grin made his wrinkles prominent once more at the familiar sight of that ladder at the same spot. . .after four years. Of course he had known about Liz's secret excursions at night, he wasn't sheriff for nothing. But he had also known that she was determined and stubborn, bound to do whatever she wanted no matter if he had had her door and window barred.

He entered the dark house, closing and bolting the door behind him. There were no lights turned on. . .no electronics. . .nothing to prove Liz was here. . .but he knew she was here, a father's intuitive one could say. He decided to go up to her room and check up on her to make sure she was okay. Upon making his way up the stairs, he stopped at the top to wait and listen for any noise that Liz might make. . . nothing. As quietly as he could and still in the darkness, he walked to the far bedroom on the left. The door released a pent up groan making him release a damnation under his breath as he opened it slightly. He was barely able to stifle a gasp of awe as he laid eyes on a sleeping angel. Stepping in to the room slowly, he stayed his eyes on his dormant daughter lying peacefully.

The heavenly glow of the moonlight shone through the window falling on her soft, dark features. Her very short brown hair looked darker like the black coating of a raven, and her eyes though they were closed. . .he could still imagine those thoughtful hazel eyes sparkling as if they were diamonds. He stopped at the side of her bed, and could not help but only see his little girl enwrapped in the warmth of her childlike innocence and joy. There was no possible way. . .he just couldn't bear to think that the woman sleeping in her bed was his little girl. . .when had she grown up? How long have I been so blind?

She mumbled something incoherently in her sleep before turning on her back and resting there peacefully. Upon seeing the semi-dark circles under her eyes, he immediately got a knot in his stomach at the thought of her restlessness and exhaustion. Very gingerly, he placed a rough hand on the soft skin of her cheek bringing back so many old memories. . .good ones, so many nights he spent doing this very thing. Even when he was in his cold and bitter depression, he had always found the strength to come up and watch his little firebird sleep. . . yes, she was a firebird reminding him of his youthful spirit so long ago. In every form and resemblance, she was his daughter save for one thing that tied her to her mother. . .her compassion for helping people and her kind caring heart. She'd deny both if anyone did tell her she carried those traits. . .it was her wanting to keep a tough insensitive shell to protect herself from unwanted things. She was a woman now though, and all things were bound to change sooner or later. . .

Slowly, he bent down placing a fatherly kiss on her cool forehead.

"I love you Liz"

With the sudden realization he hadn't slept in over two days, the sheriff retraced his steps and very quietly closed the door. He walked back downstairs to his room unknowing that the young woman upstairs was just opening her groggy eyes. She curled onto her left side facing the bright moon. With the covers pulled up to her chin, she reveled in the comforting warmth of familiarity. In the bare light, her eyes twinkled with building tears of frustration and confusion. Guiltiness bore a heavy cloud in the room, and she could do nothing but cry herself to sleep. Before falling dormant again, she softly whispered four unforgettable words to the man who no longer stood before her.

"I love you dad"