The Rivening

New & Old Connections

When Connie arrived at Jean's room in the hospital, the curtains around her bed were closed off. Connie peeked in. Jean was staring out the window. She turned to Connie. The left side of her face drooped, and her speech slurred. "I'm pitiful. Doc says I'm doin' okay. Listen. Hope Angie hasn't guilted you...into doin' stuff...for me."

"No, no. I'm just going to water your plants, take in mail, throw out flyers. That sort of stuff. Okay?"

"She shouldn't bother you. Don't fuss. I hate that."

"No big deal. It's not exactly like I have a busy schedule. Anyway, fussing is not something I do well."

"What else she say?"

"Peter. Angie told me a little bit about Peter. I can deliver stuff to him."

Jean frowned, "No. I'll call him. Later. He has a hard time...with new people." Long pause. "What did Angie...tell you?"

"That where Peter lives used to be a corner store that his parents ran. They lived upstairs, there was a fire and his parents died and Peter was badly burned. She thought it was about 25 years ago. And since the fire, you've been taking food, maybe other stuff to him."

Another long pause. "That it?"

"Pretty much. Is that right what she said?"

"Ya, that's enough."

"Where's your phone? I'll text him, explain your situation, and give him my phone number to text if he needs anything. He doesn't have to talk to me. One less thing for you to worry about. Okay?"

When she got back home, Connie stood at her living room window and looked at the boarded-up corner store. She wondered about Peter being a recluse for 25 some years. Why? Was he that badly scarred from the fire? Jean his only contact? Did he have anyone else? How did he spend his days?

Connie got a text message from an unknown number, 'I'm sorry about Jean. I don't need anything. Thank you, Connie.'

This was followed shortly by a call from another unknown number.

"Hi Connie, I bet you can't guess who this is?"

"Okay..."

"Oh, give it a try."

Connie hung up. She knew who it was. Her phone buzzed again.

Same voice. "You haven't changed, Connie."

"Actually, I have changed. I've grown up, unlike you." From the first 'Hi,' Connie had recognized her stepbrother James' nasally whine.

"Don't hang up. I'm coming with a peace offering."

"You'll have to do better than that."

"Seriously, I know you have no fondness for me or my mother or sister. I can barely stand them myself. I want to give you something. A little memento from Findley's house that I think should rightly be yours. That old lithograph from Findley's study. The one of the angel banning Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. I remember Findley had a pet name for you, like the angel. Jo something. What was it?"

"Jophiel"

"I thought you might want it. Mother was going to sell it but I told her I wanted it. I'd like to give it to you."

Connie would have loved to have the lithograph hanging in her house. But she didn't want to deal with James face-to-face. Could she avoid that? She didn't trust him. Was there a conniving Eunice or treacherous Ainsley behind this olive branch? Or Grayson? Did he ask James about the flaming sword hieroglyphic? It seemed too coincidental to have the Jophiel lithograph come looming up right now.

James queried, "You still there?"

"Yeah"

"I thought maybe you'd hung up on me again."

"No."

"I can drop it off some time. Grayson told me where you live."

Great.

James continued, "What was the story about Jophiel with you and Findley? The last time I saw him, he still called you that."

"Oh really? I don't recall. You know James, that's okay. You can keep the lithograph. I don't have a lot of wall space to hang stuff. Anyway, it's an ominous thing to have hanging on the wall and look at everyday."

"It is kind of terrifying," James laughed, and for the first time in the conversation, almost sounded like someone Connie might want to know. "I really do feel bad about what a shithead I was to you back then. We all were. Truth is, I would have happily gone with you to stay with your grandparents."

"Now, don't go all mushy on me, James, but I do appreciate the gesture. I wonder, though, did Grayson put you up to calling me?"

Pause. "He encouraged me to call you. I showed him the lithograph when he dropped off the boxes."

"Did Grayson say anything about a hieroglyphic, a sort of symbol?"

"He did but I didn't know what he meant. Why?"

"It's nothing. Grayson's gotten wound up about some old stuff of Findley's."

James worked up to a warming close. "I know this conversation hasn't gone exactly as I hoped. But I'll try again sometime and maybe you'll have found a place for the scary angel."

James, her new-found friend? What a novel idea. Connie still didn't trust him. Though, she might take him up on the lithograph if he offered it again.