I have a message for Sebastian. Mate, if you're reading this, go check your yahoo inbox, it's full and I can't e-mail you. And you should get messenger already. I also wanted to say, I read Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code", it's really, really, reeaaaally good, probably the best book I've ever read, so yeah, you should read it. I like to think it was specially written for us, the skeptic Roman Catholic Italians who do not like to conform. Isn't it weird, maybe even a little scary, how your views on hierarchical history can shift so easily when the truth is thrown into your face? It's happening. Abbiamo vinto.
Rambling aside, I reckon there will be five chapters to this story, but I could lengthen it, or I could write a sort of sequel, or I could move on to something completely different. For the moment, I just want to finish this story so I can go finish the other one on the works, which I have completely neglected these past days. But suggestions are welcome; I really don't like making this sort of decisions.
More special appearances by God coming up. Thanks to the reviewers (why hasn't Joey reviewed? Where is she? She was the special guest in the last chapter; she should have been the first to review!!).
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone or anything but the plot. Don't sue.
Here goes…
+++++++++++++
Brand New Day – by In the darkNess
Look what I've done, this picture I've painted
It looks like my heart or what still remains
Convinced of the weight your interpretations
Are not what I see, I wish they could be
But I remember it much redder
And I remember it much brighter
-- Jars of Clay, Portrait of an apology--.
Chapter three: Portrait of an Apology
Luke was surprised when, the next time he saw her, his sister walked into AP Chemistry wearing a content look on her face. Hadn't she been sad a moment ago, just like she had been all week? He wondered what could have happened to her between now and the moment he left her with the strange girl in the blue jacket, that cheered her up.
Maybe things between Joan and Adam were okay now, he mused. Luke hadn't seen Adam yet today; he would soon anyway, assuming the guy would come to class. And if the problem had been solved, then Luke wouldn't have to talk to Adam after all, which was good, because he had no idea of how that would go.
But Joan seemed okay. After her week-long trance-like catatonic slide, it was only likely that reconciliation with Adam would be the only thing to get her happy again. And Luke off the hook.
However, that was clearly not the case, he realized disappointingly, when Adam trailed in behind a couple of other students and took his usual seat. Today, Grace Polk had stubbornly reclaimed her own usual seat, on the far right, forcing Joan to sit in the middle, next to Adam. Adam sat down wordlessly and fixed his eyes on the front of the room, and Joan looked at him wistfully for a split second, her smile fading, before staring up ahead too. Luke observed all this and he sighed and shook his head. So much for getting off the hook.
Consequently, he had a difficult time focusing on today's lesson. In his head he was trying to figure out what he would say to Adam (he didn't even know how much he should really intervene in the whole situation), while working out some formulas for the assigned problems. It wasn't easy, he wasn't getting much figured out, and by the end, he was as clueless as he was at the beginning. When the class was dismissed, he couldn't muster up the nerve to call out to Adam, and he watched him leave the classroom with the students filing out. He could have thwacked himself for being a wuss, but he caught sight of Grace and Joan lagging behind, and he got an idea.
"Wait, Grace," he hissed, reaching out to take Grace's arm. "Can we talk for a second?"
Joan walked out obliviously, and Grace turned to Luke, a knowing expression on her face. "This is about your sister, isn't it?"
"Yeah, well, sort of. I thought maybe you could… talk to Adam, actually, and see if you can, you know, find out what's really going on."
"Why not ask Joan?"
"Um, well, I figured if it's Adam who seems to have a problem with Joan, and not the other way around, then it would be more… er, effective to ask him what that problem is… don't you think?"
Grace nodded. "Okay… well, what do you need me for? Why don't you talk to him yourself?"
Luke looked hesitant. "Erm, I would, but… I don't know… it's—"
"You're such a coward," Grace said, rolling her eyes, and motioning to the door. "Anyway, I have a better idea," she added and walked out. Luke sighed exasperatedly and followed her.
++++++++++++++
"Girardi, wait up!"
Joan spun around to see Grace catching up with her as she walked toward her locker before second period.
"Hey, uhh, I was wondering…" Grace began tentatively. This was weird.
"Yes?"
"Is there perhaps anything I can… do to help fix things… between you and Adam?"
Joan was taken aback by Grace's sudden vocal mildness. Usually she was a bit more blunt and articulate than that. She supposed Grace Polk didn't usually offer to be a sentimental mediator for a friend in need.
"Look, I apologized, I reasoned, I pleaded. It didn't work. I think things are actually getting worse between us. Nothing has changed and that's bad enough." Joan put on a pained look, and Grace attempted one of pity as she walked alongside listening intently. "The only chance I've got left is to tell him the truth, and hope he will believe me. But I don't even know how I'm gonna get him to listen to me in the first place."
Grace tried not to make a face, and she looked awkwardly at her friend. "Well, maybe I can help you with that," she offered. "Maybe he'll listen to me, and I can convince him to listen to you. I don't know if it'll work, but I can try."
"You'd do that?" Joan asked, a mixture of gratefulness and surprise on her face.
Grace shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Hey, no promises, but… you know."
They stopped at their respective lockers and each spun their own combinations and popped them open. As she pulled out some books, Joan stared at her friend curiously out of the corner of her eye, smiling at Grace's astonishingly nice behavior.
"Why are you doing this? Not that I don't appreciate it, but… this is so unlike you."
"Because I'm tired of sitting in the middle of you two giving each other the silent treatment," Grace declared harshly, as if she had been waiting a really long time to say it. She shoved a couple of heavy textbooks a little too hard into her locker. "And I can't hang out with both of you at the same time. I'm either with you, or I'm with Adam. It's getting frustrating and really annoying." She slammed the door shut and leaned against it. "And, well… your brother is worried about you, and he wanted to find a way to help, and I joined forces with him."
Joan looked even more shocked. She definitively didn't expect Luke to get involved in such issues of the heart, especially not to help his sister. "Really? He's in on this too?"
"Not quite yet. He's such a sissy. But he's handy. Anyway, I'll talk to Adam. I'll go and try to talk some sense into him. And then I'll tell you how it goes."
Joan sighed flustered, and toyed with the little cheerleader sculpture Adam had made for her when she had tried out for the squad. "I don't know why, I doubt this will work." She wondered how she could even think that, after what God had said. She was nervous because she was actually going to tell Adam the truth; it was revealing a very strange secret about her.
"Hey, no more sulking," Grace retorted. "Don't worry, I think I've got a plan. It just might work."
++++++++++++++
"Yo, Adam!"
Adam looked up from his sketchbook, where he had been hopelessly trying to work out some inspiration before recess was over. It had been evasive all week, he couldn't get a single decent idea juiced out of his head. It was as if everything had changed since "that day", and he was blocked.
Grace was coming his way. "Hey, Grace," he said, looking back down as she approached.
His friend stood over him, looking strangely conspicuous, and not hiding it very well. "Hey, have you seen Joan lately?" she asked in pretend casualty.
Adam grimaced at the mention of her name. He knew where this was going. "I guess. Don't remember."
"I have; she looks pretty down. Wonder what could be wrong with her…"
"Grace, don't… just don't," Adam groaned tiredly.
"Just thought you might know what it is. Did she do something to you?"
"Look, what happened between me and Joan is between me and Joan. I don't want to be rude, but don't butt in." He wasn't yelling. His low voice resulted a bit more intimidating when accompanied by the piercing hard stare he was now giving Grace.
Grace would have continued to think the matter was not as serious as it was made out to be after all, had Adam used the name "Jane" instead of "Joan" (with a great deal of disdain in his tone, she noted). This was worse than she had imagined.
"Listen, Adam, I don't know in full detail what happened that day. I only know about half of it. But what I want to get at is, there has got to be a way you guys can make up." She was authentically serious now. "You don't really want this to be like it is now forever, do you? I mean, it's Joan we're talking about! You like Joan, don't you? Why would you do this to someone you like?"
Adam stuffed his sketchbook in his bag and stood up, looking Grace straight in the eye. Grace nearly recoiled; it was unlike him to get exasperated like that.
"It's not a matter of what I'm doing to her; it's what she did to me. If we're like this, it's because of her. This is all her fault, not mine. And no, I wouldn't like this to be like now forever, but that's not really up to me."
Without another word, he walked away and down the corridor, and disappeared around the far corner. Grace only stood there, staring after him, shaking her head. She was a little thrown off by his tirade, and his words reverberated in the empty hallway.
Luke came up behind her from around the corner. "How'd it go?" he asked.
"Not as well as I hoped, but something in there gave in. I think, to some extent, it worked," she replied.
"What now?"
"This is were you come in. Now don't be a coward and do your part, and do it well."
"Don't give me that," Luke retorted, and he walked down the hallways the same way Adam had gone. Grace followed him with her eyes, smirking, then went another way.
++++++++++++++
"But that's for next week. Why would you need to do this now?" Adam asked Luke as they walked back the way they had come. Luke was leading Adam to the library under the pretext that he needed to do some research for the AP chem assignment for next week, and he could use the help of someone who was in today's class. It wasn't a very believable excuse, but Luke hadn't had much time to think it through.
"Well, if you turn it in earlier, you get extra credit. And I could use it."
Adam gave him a sideways glance, indicating he wasn't very convinced. Luke racked his brain. "Erm, my partner's been lazing lately. I think he could get me in trouble." Adam shrugged, which Luke interpreted as either he thought it made sense or he didn't care.
"Okay," Luke sighed nervously, pushing the door to the library open. He looked around; it was still empty. He and Grace had checked just a while ago. Only the librarian was there, busy with something at the other end of the room.
"Well, why don't you sit down over there, and I'll go check on some books we could use," Luke suggested, gesturing to the tables in one corner.
Adam went to the nearest table and sat at the head; his back was to the door, and Luke cocked an eyebrow. How convenient, he thought, and he took his chance and left the library, quietly and unnoticed. He stood outside, waiting, and a moment later, Grace showed up, with Joan right beside her. Joan looked anxious and uneasy.
"Here we are. Well, here she is," Grace said theatrically.
"I can't believe you're doing this," Joan told Luke.
"I can't believe it either," Luke replied. But they looked at each other and smiled. "Well, get in there; he's alone."
"Thanks, guys," Joan grinned at them both.
"No problem," Grace said dismissively.
"Good luck," Luke added.
Taking a deep breath, Joan passed through the doors.
++++++++++++++++
She was in the same room with Adam, alone and without any distractions. After all the shades of grey her life had taken over the past week, she hadn't thought it possible, that everything would suddenly be looking up again. That she would be able to bridge the distance between them.
Her stomach was a knot as she approached the table. Adam hadn't seen her yet. She walked around and came to sit next to him. It was only then that he noticed her presence. He probably had thought it was Luke. But just as quickly as he had seen her, it became as if she wasn't there at all.
"Hi, Adam," she whispered, smiling weakly.
He said nothing. He didn't even look at her.
"Don't pretend I'm not here," she said in a pained voice, "because I am, and I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me."
His eyes shifted from the table onto her, but there was no warmth in them. He had never looked at her with such cold intensity as he did now. But Joan didn't waver under his stare, even when her confidence diminished slightly.
"I'm just going to say what I came to say, and you can believe me if you want or not. But I swear what I'm about to say is true. I want to tell you the truth."
Adam leaned back in his chair slowly, arms crossed over his chest, never taking his eyes off of her. He was listening. Joan didn't know where to begin.
"Well, um…" she searched her mind. "Do you remember that time, in the bookstore where I work, when you asked me what was going on with me? That time everyone was wondering why in the world would I suddenly want to build a boat?" She didn't wait for him to answer; she didn't think he would, anyway. "You didn't, like everyone else, ask me as if you thought I was crazy. You just wanted to know, to understand. You were offering to listen and not question." She paused and looked down. "I could have told you everything then, but something stopped me. Or rather, someone. Someone told me you had problems of your own, and you didn't need to deal with mine. That someone was God."
Joan stopped to see Adam's reaction. He showed none; he didn't look strangely at her or laughed or anything. He didn't even blink.
"I was just settling into my new life here in Arcadia, when I began to get –this is going to sound odd- frequent visits from God," Joan continued. "He always looks different, but I know it's Him because he proves it. He knows things about me and everyone that any person couldn't possibly know about anyone. That's how I know. He comes around and He gives me a mission. Sort of my good deed of the day. I don't always know what the point is, though. In the end, I don't always find out either, but sometimes I do. And sometimes it's scary, not knowing where it's going or if I can pull it off. But I have no choice, I have to do it. I don't want to find out what would happen if I didn't do it." She looked at the floor again. "I almost did."
Her mouth felt dry. "The, the boat was a mission. It somehow brought my dad and my brother Kevin back together after a big argument they had. God doesn't explain these things to me; I'm supposed to figure them out myself. I have to admit, though, I can be a bit dense sometimes," she added with a chuckle.
Joan could almost feel Adam's gaze burning a hole in her head. She cleared her throat. "My last mission was the worst one yet. Rather the one that has turned out the worst. Sometimes things barely turn out fine. But this time…" she took a breath," God told me… he told me to keep your sculpture out of the art show. But he didn't say why; he never does. So I tried to do what he told me. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to do it, actually. It didn't feel right. It felt like I was sabotaging you. I thought that I could buy it from you, no harm in that, and you were even willing to give it to me as a gift, but you still wanted it to be a part of the show. And I didn't want to take that away from you."
As she moved through the account on the events, she felt her throat tightening. "And then that lady bought it, and you suddenly got the idea that you could live off the money you could make from selling your artwork, and you wanted to drop out of school, and you wouldn't listen to any of us who were trying to tell you it was a very bad idea. And I realized this was the reason why God hadn't wanted your sculpture in the show. I got worried, and I knew if you made a mistake, it would be my fault, because I could have prevented it."
Joan swallowed the lump in her throat. "So I panicked. I didn't know what else to do, so I wrecked your sculpture." She gave him an apologetic look. "I should have tried to find a better way to fix things, but all I could think of at the moment was to find the easiest and fastest way to sabotage your plans. To keep you in school. I wish I had found another way."
There was a silence, in which they heard a noise in the aisle of bookshelves nearest to them. The librarian was there, but they ignored her. Joan licked her lips and looked at Adam.
"And to think it all got started by your sculpture. By something beautiful you made. I wish I hadn't destroyed it. But I did it for a reason. Now you know what that reason was."
Something glistened in Adam's eyes, and Joan thought it was tears, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't get past the steely coldness in them.
"I know I've said I'm sorry hundreds of times, but I really am. I thought that, now you know the truth, you would understand and you would be able to forgive me. Because I would never do anything like that for no reason at all. And I would never want to hurt your feelings like I did. "Her eyes met his in spite of his stare. "I can't stand you being mad at me."
Another absolute silence followed her speech, and Joan became restless. "That's all I had to say. It would be really good if you could say something now."
Very slowly, Adam looked down at his lap, and put his hands on the table in front of him. He seemed to be taking in everything she had said. Then, just as slowly, his gaze met hers again, and his eyes were even steelier.
"You know," he began, his voice as cold as his stare. "I really don't understand why you do some of the things that you do. I never asked you; I never meant to make you feel like you needed to explain yourself. I trusted you and that was that." He sighed. "But now, I don't think I can ever trust you again. Not after what you did." He picked up his bag and motioned to leave. Joan stood up too and grabbed his arm before he could walk away.
"You don't believe me?" she asked. He appeared to think about it, but he shook his head.
"I don't know… I don't think so," he said hesitantly, and took back his arm.
"What do you mean 'you don't think so'?" she demanded.
"What do you expect?" he retorted. She was blank. Adam was almost at the door now, but Joan pulled him around and took his hands into hers. She had tears in her eyes.
"Is there a chance you will ever forgive me?"
Unmoved by her pleading, Adam kept a straight face. "I guess not," he said bluntly. "You know, you're not the girl I thought you were," he mumbled. For a second, Joan looked as if she had just been struck, but her expression turned to one of disappointment and sadness.
"Then you're not the guy I thought you were, either."
Adam stared at her for a moment, then he turned to leave, pushing through the double doors.
"But I love you anyway," she whispered, watching him go. But he didn't hear her; he was already gone.
On his way out, Adam saw Grace and Luke lurking nearby, as if standing guard. They stopped arguing quietly when they saw him and followed him with their eyes. Adam ignored them; he couldn't deal with any of this right now. The bell rang, and as the students flooded back in from recess, Adam rushed up the stairs and left the school building.
++++++++++++++
"Joan, what happened?"
Luke entered the library, followed by Grace, and found Joan standing stone still, her eyes unfocused, as if she were about to cry. She didn't have to say anything for them to realize it hadn't worked.
"I'm sorry, Joan," Grace muttered.
Joan swallowed hard and took a deep breath, her tears threatening to spill over. Luke came to stand next to his sister, and he was about to put his arm around her, but she stepped back and away. "Um, thanks for your help, guys, but… I just want to be left alone, please."
Grace nodded. "Well, see you in class, then." Luke looked at Joan worriedly, unsure if he should leave her alone. But Grace tugged at his sleeve and pulled him along, and they left. She was alone now. Or so she thought.
"It's a good thing you didn't go after him," a voice said. Joan snapped out of her trance to see the librarian come out from behind a bookcase. She was a middle-aged woman with dark hair streaked with grey and a pair of no-nonsense reading glasses hanging around her neck, and she carried a ton of books in her arms. Joan blinked between confusion at what she meant, and indignation at the woman's nerve to listen in on her conversation.
"Excuse me?" she managed to ask.
"Adam needs time to think. You need time to be patient," the librarian continued, putting the books on a table. Joan realized who it was then, and she sighed depressingly.
"I think I only made things worse," she grumbled.
"You think wrong. That actually went quite well."
Joan looked at God as if She were crazy. "Were you paying any attention at all? He obviously didn't believe a word I said!"
"He hasn't decided that yet. He's confused. He needs time to think," God cleared.
"You're saying he might believe me?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe? 'Maybe' is not good enough."
"Yes, it is."
God sounded a bit severe, so Joan thought it was best not to argue. She mulled over God's words. What was she supposed to do now?
"Don't despair, don't fret, don't think negatively, and don't give up. That's a couple of things you can do, or not do, in the meantime," God said, obviously reading Joan's thoughts.
Joan sighed for the umpteenth time that day. She still felt like crying; she had hoped so hard.
"Is it really possible?" she found herself asking out loud.
God gave a sort of chuckle, fumbling with the books in Her hands. "You don't know how much," She mumbled. Joan supposed that was true, because she didn't understand what God meant by that.
"Just wait. Trust me," God patted Joan's arm. "Ever heard of 'if you really love something, let it go, and if it's really yours it will come back'?"
"That's not quite how it goes," Joan teased.
"Well, you get the gist."
"Yeah, I know…"
"Speaking of which," God continued, "meanwhile why don't you think about what you said? I'm sure you'll find something very interesting."
Joan looked confused. "What did I say?" she asked. But just then, she understood.
God smirked. "Don't play dumb. You heard yourself."
++++++++++++++
I'm so predictable, am I? (If you know me, of course. If you don't, I just come across as cheesy). And this actually turned out shorter than I thought.
A/N: I'm sorry it took me a while to post this. I was gonna do it sooner, but then a trip popped up. I traveled Thrusday night, now I'm in my homey homey Venezia, Italia, and the story kinda got side-tracked by an extensive to-do list. But aaah… here I am, recovering from jet lag and an impromptu benvenuto par-tay, and I can finally finish typing the last bit of this chapter and post it. Hope you liked it.
Seb, if you're reading this, I have another request. We should join forces!!!! (Okay, it's not so much a request as it is a command). I have some ideas that I need to work out, and I could use some help. You have an FF.net account and you've never posted anything (I'm starting to think you signed up just to give yourself a bio). This could be your very first post. But to discuss this further, YOU NEED TO GET MESSENGER!!! (and that IS a command). Also… come and visit me in Venezia, pleaaaaaaaaase!!!!
I love putting song lyrics in my stories, even if they have nothing to do with the plot. Hehe, here's another bit:
And I would be the one
To hold you down, kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after I wiped away your tears
Just close your eyes, dear.
-- Sarah McLachlan, Possession --.
[ In the darkNess ]
