~ * ~

'And I know I'm right for the first time in my life . . .'

Extract from 'A Night Without Armour' by Jewel Kilcher

Second
Thoughts
in
Columbus,
Ohio
/ I find it strange that we search / our whole lives for love / as though it were the / final treasure / the solemn purpose of people / in movies and magazines / Yet when it comes to your door / one morning with calm eyes to deliver itself / you realise it alone is not enough // You are before me, sweet man / and I am thinking / Aren't I supposed to give up everything? / Aren't I supposed to be brave / and abandon / each dream and aspiration / and yield utterly to this / elusive beast love / to your soft belly and companionship? // . . . //
Tai
Pei
/ Midnight / Blackest sky / Outside my window I can see / A stranger's tongue / wagging and winding its way / through its native streets // But this is not my home // I am the stranger here / with no language but my pen // . . . // only my pen and an / answering machine / back in the States which / no one calls // I am told / I am adored by millions / but no one calls //

~ * ~
December, 1998
Tulsa, Oklahoma

The leafless trees and withered, wind-burnt grass made the back-yard look cold, and lifeless. It was a good time to start again.

For the first time that day, Taylor shut the forest-covered book. How many times had he read it over?
He'd never been able to read it without all the enormous weight of guilt swamping him.
But the guilt was gone. Now he saw her words in a new light.
Underneath the quiet aura of mystery had lain a soul tortured. She had never been at peace in the world he had chosen to return to. She was right, as she always had been. She'd had nothing ahead of her on earth but pain and suffering. So God - or whoever it was that existed through that pulsing circle of light - had given her the peace she'd craved for so long. Where she was, was where she belonged.
Tay rested his head back against the pillows. Rhiannon was free now, she could do whatever she wanted. While he lay here on the couch in this still-new house, so weak he couldn't walk or even use a wheel-chair; he had to be carried everywhere.
Absently picking at the multi-coloured crochet blanket covering his legs, he stared out the glass-pannelled door at the frostbitten landscape.

Carlton'd come round earlier that day. Strangely, Tay hadn't been surprised. His Mom had tried, politely, to tell the guy to get lost, making courteous excuses. But Tay had heard her, over Jessie telling him about the latest prank she and Rachael were going to pull on Zac.
"It's okay Mom, he can come in," he'd called out in his weak voice, unusually calm. After all, he'd seen the Road to Heaven, what did he have to fear from Carlton? Pain? As if he hadn't inflicted enough of that on himself! Death? Death meant nothing to him now; except maybe a faster reunion with his best friend.
Shuffling his feet a little, his eyes downcast, Carlton had walked into the living-room. An uncomfortable silence had followed.
"I . . . I came . . . to apologise,"
"Pardon?" of all things, Taylor definitely hadn't been expecting that!
"Apologise,"
"I . . ." he couldn't think what to say. Was there anything to say? "Apology accepted," Carlton only nodded in answer.
The unspoken words lay heavy on the air. They were standing not three metres apart, but the gap between them was miles wide. With a tiny hint of regret, Tay knew it'd never be bridged. Too much had happened to ever change that.
They'd both just waited, Taylor lying on the couch, feigning exhaustion, Carlton leaning in the doorway, looking everywhere but the couch. When Tay had opened his eyes, Carlton had gone.

Walking softly into the living-room, Liz couldn't help but smile. Stretched out on the couch, covered by a multi-coloured crochet blanket, Taylor lay asleep. An open book rested on top of him.
"Is he here?" Rachael asked, peering around her friend. Chuckling, Liz gestured to the comatose figure on the couch, "Oh, do you think we should wake him?"
"I dunno. Diana said he'd need all the sleep he could get when they brought him home,"
"But it's been nearly three weeks since he came back from the hospital,"
"That's what I was just thinking. You know, you'd think he'd be at least a bit better by now, wouldn't you?"
"He lost a lot of blood,"
"He had a lot of transfusions,"
"True,"
"So should we wake him?"
"I don't know,"

The sound of murmuring voices intruded the peace of the black oblivion Taylor had gratefully slipped into.
Why was it whenever he tried to sleep, somebody always interrupted? It hadn't been quite so bad since he'd gotten back from that God-awful hospital. The constant beep of heart monitors and all the other machines they'd hooked him up to had kept him awake all night. Didn't they trust him to stay alive? As if just the sight of the IV sticking out of his hand hadn't been enough to make him want to go back to Rhiannon and her harp!
The murmuring voices wouldn't cease. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
"Ike shut-up!" he mumbled.
"Oh! Sorry, did we wake you?" couldn't be Ike, it was a female voice.
"Jess?"
"Open your eyes Tay," he smiled. The voice was clearer; he recognised it now.
"Hey Liz," and he opened his eyes, "Your job to keep me awake now is it?"
"Sorry about that. Knew we should have called first,"
"Nuh, it's okay -" the meaningless platitudes were cut short by Rachael.
"Hi Taylor! How are you feeling? -"
"I'm oka-"
"That's good! I brought you some orchids -"
"Than-"
"I hope you like them. Do you know where Jessie is?" both Liz and Tay smiled. Coming from anybody else, that little delivery would have been insulting; coming from Rachael, it was genuine concern mixed with optimism and innocence. Typical Rachael Iseult; she could get away with saying anything.
"Um, try her room. If she's not there, I don't know," Tay shrugged and smiled.
"Thank-you!" the girl was already halfway up the stairs.
Elisabette just stared. It'd been a long time since she'd seen the old Tay.
"Are you gonna stand there all day or are you actually planning on talking to me?"
"What? Oh, sorry," inwardly cursing herself, Liz sat down on the floor. Her amber eyes were level with Taylor's blue ones. "So how have you been, honestly?"
"Tired as," he chuckled, "I swear, they must keep a daily roster on whose turn it is to keep me awake,"
"Come on, it can't be that bad!" relaxing, she drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees.
"Wanna bet? You try lying on this couch all day, not being able to move!"
"No that's okay, you're doing a fine job as it is,"
"Thanks a lot!" laughing, Elisabette absently twisted a piece of her long ash-brown hair around her finger.
How long had it been since she'd heard Tay laugh? How long had it been since she'd heard herself laugh?
"You still can't walk?"
"Nup. It's weird, right now I feel fine, but the second I try to move! Ugh!"
"Kind of like a hangover?"
"No, more like instant exhaustion. I try to move and I fall asleep," he grinned, "A blessing for insomniacs, but not for me!"
"You're welcome to it!" her expression was a little incredulous, "So what do you do all day?"
"I sleep, eat, watch TV, get carried to wherever I have to go, and sleep some more,"
"Sounds exhilarating,"
"You have no idea!" his grin was contagious; Liz couldn't help grinning back.
How long had it been since the two of them had sat down together and just talked? She'd missed it.
But something was different. Before, he'd always been just that little bit more distant with her. He probably hadn't even noticed he was doing it; but she'd been the one to be pushed aside when things came up, she'd been the one let down gently over the phone with some excuse she'd forget the second she hung up. And it had hurt. To him, she'd been expendable, of no great importance. Yet when had he ever treated Rhiannon like that? Never. They'd been so close, and she'd felt left out. She'd resented how much time they spent together, without her. She'd felt as if she'd lost both her best friends on that one day in the summer of 1995. She'd even wished at times that she'd never introduced them at all. It had hurt.
She'd tried to get close to him after Rhee's death. She'd tried to claw her friend back. But he'd preferred a memory. And it'd taken him two years of hell to let it go.
Now, maybe, he'd finally let her in to his private universe, just as he had their best friend.
"You can't move at all?"
"Nope,"
"So how do you, well . . . you know . . ." much to her own embarrassment, Liz felt her cheeks going red. Whether Tay'd seen it or not, he ignored it and grinned slyly.
"When nature calls, fathers and older brothers answer!"
"You're kidding! Oh, I pity them!!"
"I have to admit it, there are many advantages to be found in being completely immobile, the posibilities to annoy are just incredible!"
"Pay-back time?"
"Oh yeah! Well, once you get over the embarrassment. God, first week home home was absolute hell! Can you imagine what it's like not being able to do anything for yourself?!"
"Not even -"
"Nup,"
"I can just picture it! Ugh! Sick thought!! You're corrupting my innocence Taylor!!" he watched her make a rather disgusted face while laughing at the same time, and he couldn't help smiling. Had there ever been a time when Liz hadn't been there to help him out?
Had there ever been a time when he'd not taken it entirely for granted?
The smile dropped a little. No, there hadn't.
Elisabette was her own person, it wasn't like she was shackled to him with chains. Yet whenever he'd needed comforting or reassurance, she had always come to him. She'd held his hand and told him that everything'd be alright. And he'd never even given it a second thought.
How on earth had she put up with him for this long?
"Innocent? You?"
"Hard to believe I know, but true,"
"You're completely impossible, you know that Liz?" they were both chuckling.
"Oh yeah. Known for years. Corrective surgery's still being considered," Taylor just shook his head in mock-exasperation. Silently laughing, Liz glanced over her shoulder at the stereo.
"What on earth is that?"
"Is what?"
"That . . . music," the distatse on her face was obvious. But then, Liz listened to Tool and the Smashing Pumpkins etc, so it wasn't really surprising.
'Pan fyddair'r nos yn olau, a llwch y ffordd yn wyn, a'r bont yn wag sy'n croesi'r dwr, difwstwr ym Mhen Llyn . . .'
"Oh, that's Ike's revenge,"
"Revenge for what? Besides the obvious,"
"For having to change the channels for me on the TV,"
"But the remote's just there," she gestured to the little coffee table just in front of him. He just grinned.
"I know,"
"Brilliant! Cruel, but brilliant,"
"Pisses him off so much, it's hilarious!"
"But then, this . . . noise, that's a pretty good choice of revenge material!"
"You think so? I quite like it actually,"
'Pan lithrai gloyw ddwr Glaslyn, i'r gwyll, fel cledd i'r wain, pan gochai pell ffenestri'r plas, rhwng briglas lwyni'r brain . . .'
"Like it? How can you possibly like it? This is opera material!"
"And I happen to like it, do you have a problem with that?" grinning like a Chesire cat, he watched her grumble a little.
"Who is it?" she was trying so hard to hide the fact that she was warming to the 'opera material'. Unable to stop smiling, and not trusting himself to speak, he pointed to the CD case on top of the stereo. "Charlotte Church? Never heard of her,"
"You have now," Liz couldn't help a tiny smile.
"God how old is she supposed to be?!"
"Twelve,"
"You're kidding me! Sure doesn't sound like a twelve year old!" she studied the back cover for a second, "She's pretty,"
"Why else do you think that case's been conveniently hidden from Zac?"
"He's not that bad, is he?"
"Don't bet on it,"
"Okay I won't," she chuckled, and returned the cover to the top of the stereo.
'Mae hiraeth yn y môr a'r mynydd maith, mae hiraeth mewn distawrwydd ac mewn cân, mewn murmur dyfroedd ar dragywydd daith, yn oriau'r machlud ac yn fflamau'r tân . . .'
"You know," Liz gazed at the stereo display, "Rhee would have loved this,"
"Yeah, she would've. She loved anything Welsh," the two stared at each other, amazed. Rhiannon was an 'enter-at-own-danger' subject. No-one talked about her without risking awkward silences and a quick change of subject. Why was it so easy to talk about her now?
"Liz?"
"Yeah?"
"Something I never quite figured out; why did Rhee try to run away?" he watched her bitten fingernails pick at the carpet.
"They never told you?" she asked after a long time, still staring at the floor.
"Told me what?"
"Then again, I guess they wouldn't have. They wanted to believe that she was okay so badly,"
"Who?"
"Arian and Lew,"
"Liz what are you talking about?" she looked up, taking in Tay's confusion. She sighed in resignation; what was the point it hiding anything now?
"There was a lot about Rhiannon that you didn't know Taylor,"
"What do you mean? We told each other everything, she -"
"Not everything,"
"I . . ."
"The reason she ran away wasn't anything conscious on her part,"
"You mean, she didn't do it deliberately?"
"Sort of. She . . . um . . . crap . . . there's no other way to explain it," she sighed again, "Rhee had schizophrenia," Tay's eyes widened so far, Liz had to wonder if his eye-balls weren't going to fall out.
"Like split-personal-"
"No! Why does everyone think schizophrenia is split-personality disorder?" all she got for pointing out the difference were two puzzled blue eyes staring at her in askance. "Schizophrenia is a severe mental disorder. There's a lot of shit that goes with it, but mostly it's a withdrawal into an entirely different world that you've built in your head, but you've got no control over. You're kinda living in two worlds at once, and you can't tell which one's real,"
"But . . . but Rhee was fine . . ." the disbelief was heavy in Taylor's voice.
"She first had it when she was eight. She had to go live at a treatment centre for a year -"
"She was in a mental hospital?!"
"No, it was a treatment centre, not an asylum! But when she came back, she'd lost almost all her memory. She didn't recognise Carlton or Rachael, she didn't know who I was, she barely knew her own parents! God, I hate thinking about what they must have done to her in there," she had to look away, swallowing back the tears. She'd shed far too many as it was.
"Hey, Liz, it's okay," a comforting hand on her shoulder helped. None of this mattered anymore, but she had to tell him. He deserved to know.
"She must have had a relapse or something. Now that I think about it, this all started after she got back from Wales. God, how could I not have noticed!"
"Liz, her own family didn't notice, how can you blame yourself?"
"But maybe if I'd seen it, we could have helped -"
"No, she's happy where she is. Happier than she ever was here," the conviction in his voice was strong. Even the shock of finally knowing what Rhee's life had been like was quickly over-powered by the image of the ethereal angel standing on the Road to Heaven.
"How do you know?"
"Trust me, I know," he chuckled inwardly; those were Rhiannon's very words.
"How? I . . ." Liz studied him for a second, "You've seen her?" now it was her turn to sound disbelieving.
"Well, yeah,"
"But how could . . ." slowly, a tiny smile crept onto her lips, "When you were in the coma," it was a statement, not a question, but he nodded in confirmation anyway.
"Now don't you be getting any ideas Miss Elisabette Shephard!" he joked, but with a hint of seriousness.
"Don't you worry mister, I'm not as stupid as you, remember?"
"Bitch!" laughing, he threw a lounge cushion at her.
"And don't you ever forget it!" catching the cushion before it did any real damage, she hugged it to her.
"Carlton was over here earlier you know," he said absently, leaning back against his pillow, gazing at the ceiling fan.
"Carlton? What, was he running a temperature?" that got a small smile.
"He came to apologise,"
"Apologise?! Carlton?! Are you kidding me?"
"Nope,"
"You're serious, he actually came over here and said the words 'I'm sorry',"
"Not exactly,"
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"
"He said 'I came to apologise',"
"Oh!" she went to thump him one, but her smile gave her away, "You're impossible!"
"And so are you, so I guess that makes us even,"
"Taylor!" his mischievous grin widened.
"Yes?"
"Damn you!" and she hit him with the lounge cushion.
"Ow!! That's no way to treat a dying man!! Nurse! Get this crazed woman away from me!!"
"Shut-up!" again, the cushion came down on his head. Not to be outdone, he grabbed his pillow to defend himself.
"Leave me alone, bitch!"
"Bastard! Shut your mouth and fight!"
"Right that's it!!"

About ten minutes later, both collapsed, gasping for breath; Elisabette from laughing too hard, and Taylor from genuine exhaustion.
"I think you killed me Liz," the raspy 'dying voice' was highly over-dramatised.
"Oh what a pity! Shows what happens when you mess with a Shephard!"
"Ha ha, real funny! Now will you please stop crowing before I fall back into a coma just so I won't have to listen?"
"Well if you gonna be like that," with a mock-pout, Liz sat down on her cushion.
"Yes I am gonna be like that," the surly look was replaced by a smile, " 'Cause honestly, I'm dead tired,"
"Sorry,"
"For what? That's the most I've laughed in months,"
"And they do say laughter's the cure for everything,"
"Then maybe they're right,"
"Maybe,"
The lull in the conversation grew longer and longer. For lack of something better, Taylor grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. MTV blasted out from the speakers, Liz couldn't help cringing. Hastily, she walked over the Hansons' video collection neatly displayed on a tall, thin wooden shelf.
"There's not much there except Jessie and Avie's tapes and the home movies, which I doubt you'll wanna see,"
"You doubted right . . . ah!" she took a video from the shelf and went straight to the VCR.
"Um, Liz?"
"Mmm?"
"What are you putting on?" not bothering to look up from the VCR, she held the case up for him to see, "Oh . . . great,"
'God not "Scream" again!'
"Knew you'd like it," Liz murmured as she came back and sat on the floor, resting against the lounge.

'Great, Neve Campbell's about to nearly die again. How fascinating'
Tay was bored as hell. He'd seen this movie enough times to recite it near word for word. Kinda like that guy who'd seen 'Titanic' 86 times.
'I pity that guy. Who could possibly stand seeing Leonardo DiCaprio 86 times? Although, seeing him die 86 times would be bearable'
He hadn't even realised he'd gently been stroking the long ash-brown hair, trapped against the lounge, until Liz's hand caught his own.

She smiled up at him.

He smiled down at her.

"Thank-you Liz,"

"What for?"

"Everything,"

He softly kissed her temple.

She smiled.

He smiled.

She tightened her grip on his hand momentarily, then turned back to 'Scream', a tiny little grin playing on her lips.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tay noticed movement. He glanced towards the doorway, then back at the TV.

He did the fastest double-take of his life.

Rhiannon leaned against the door frame.

He stared.

She turned to him and smiled.

Feeling his fear dissolve, he smiled back.

She glanced at the TV, yawning as the principal was stabbed.

He glanced at Liz, wondering why she couldn't see Rhee as well.

Rhee smiled warmly and nodded to herself.

Tay looked back at her.

She lifted her hand in a parting gesture.

He tentatively did the same.

She turned with a smile and faded away.

He heard her voice whispering in his mind.

'Close your eyes, but don't sleep . . .'

* * * *

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