Forever and Ever

Prompt: BLUE - must use these words: Goldfish, pendulum, quicksand, figures and disk

Words: 2,954

  Erik found her huddled upon the back step, tears streaking her chubby cheeks and sweaty dandelions crushed to her heart by dirty hands. She was hiccupping and her black curls were tangled and damp. Her frilly white dress had grass stains and dirt smudges on it, and her bare little toes were curled on the wood.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked in his best grown-up fashion. Blond hair touched his eyelashes and plastered against his sweaty neck.

  “My goldfish is dead.”

  She hiccupped and held out her hands. In her sweaty little palms were the crushed dandelions and a very dead goldfish.

  “Dat’s okay, I can ask my mommy to get you anudder one,” he sat down on the step next to her.

  “Nuh uh. Mrs. Honey says I can’t have another one.” Tears brimmed in her large brown eyes again. “She says that I can’t take care of them.”

  “I can sneak you one,” he offered.

  “Uh uh,” she shook her head, “You can’t. I can’t keep it.”

  “But Angie –” He began protesting, but she was crying again – her goldfish crushed to her chest.

  “I want a mommy and a daddy.” She sobbed, “Erik, I want a mommy!”

  “You will haf one soon!” He persuaded, “I got one, she’s really nice. She makes me cookies wif chocolate! Here, I haf one in my pocket.” He pulled out a crumbled cookie and handed it to her. She took it in one hand – still holding her dead fish and flowers. “Yummy, see?” He was bending over and trying to eat the rest of the crumbs out of his pocket.

  Angie sniffled and ate the cookie. Her nose was running and she wiped it on her dress, feeling better already.

  “See?” Erik put an arm around her shoulders and pressed his chubby cheek to hers, “Chocolate does make you feel better. I told my mommy so.”

  Angie’s sniffing became louder and she hiccupped.

  “Don’t cry again!” He said, alarmed, blue eyes wide, “Angie, don’t!”

  “I’ll try not to.” She wiped her nose on her dress again.

  “When I get all grown up, Angie, will you marry me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, because I’m going to be a fireman like my daddy, but not my real daddy – because my real daddy was a bum, mommy said so. And if you marry me I will take care of you, forever and ever. Den you won’t need a mommy and a daddy.” Erik leaned forward to kiss her and he got her nose.

  Angie giggled.

  “Angie! I rang the bell twenty minutes ago! Where are you!?”

  “Dat’s Mrs. Honey? She sounds badder dan before,” Erik said, wrinkling his nose.

  “I have to go, Erik! Will you bury my goldfish for me?” She offered out the fish and dandelions to him.

  Erik readily took it and bobbed his head. “I’ll put it by da old one.”

  “ANGELA!”

  “Bye, Erik.” Angie said as she got up and ran inside.

***

Seven years later

  “…Happy Birthday, dear Erik… Happy Birthday to you!” His mom hooted as he blew out the candles.

  Erik grimaced and shoved his hands into his pockets, “Thanks mom.” He said, hiding it around a cough.

  “Happy birthday, son.” His dad said, clapping him on the back and holding out his other hand for Erik to shake.

  Erik grimaced at him also and shook his hand. “Dad.” Was all he could say.

  “I’ll go get a knife to cut the cake!” His mom said brightly and bustled out of the room.

  Erik shuffled his feet and waited. The room was quiet; his dad was not one for talking and neither was he. The only sound was the ticking of the pendulum in the old grandfather clock and the creaking of floorboards from his mom’s footsteps in the hall.

  His dad cleared his throat.  “So, what are you thinking of doing for a career?”

  “Dad! I’m only twelve!” Erik protested.

  “That doesn’t matter, Erik. You gotta think for the future.”

  “Sure.”

  Silence once again, but broken this time by a tapping on the window. Erik turned and saw a dark face and warm brown eyes.

  “Oh look , son, it’s your friend from the orphanage.” His dad said, relieved – it seemed – to have someone to make conversation in the room. He walked to the window and opened it. “Come on in, sweetie. The front door is open.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, Mr. Bryant, the window is closer.” Angie said and shoved a long scarred leg through the window.

  Erik moved over to help her, but his dad was already there offering her a hand. “Hey, Angie.” Erik said and his voice cracked embarrassingly.

  “Oh, hey Erik!” She pulled her other leg through, “Oohf, just a sec.” She stumbled in, but was supported by his dad. Angie grinned at them and straightened her clothes; her hair couldn’t get any worse, pulling her shorts down to cover more leg. Then she pounced, “Happy birthday, Errrik!” She yelled and flung her arms around him.

  Erik flushed and patted her on the back, “Thanks, Angie.” He whispered and then stepped out of her reach.

  She grinned.

  “Oh my!” His mom exclaimed from the doorway – knives, presents, and a tray of mini pizzas in her arms. “Oh, Angela, your hair!”

  Angie grinned ruefully and tousled it, “I had two fights today.”

  “Well, let me go get a brush then,” his mom said, turning for the hall again, “And Erik, you can start by opening Jack’s present. Angela, could you cut the cake –” she paused and looked dubiously at Angie’s hands, “Wash your hands first. You can take a shower later.”

  Angie laughed and pranced off for the kitchen.

  “They haven’t yet found a foster family for her?” Erik’s dad asked in a low voice.

  “She keeps running away from them,” said Erik grimly, “She wants to live here, in this town.”

  “Erik,” Angie called as she entered the room, “You can open your presents as I cut the cake…” She glanced around the room, “Why is nobody else here? Where are all of your friends?”

  Erik shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “It’s Danny’s birthday too. So they figured since I’m an foster kid that today wasn’t my real birthday… they’re all at his place.” He added quietly.

  “Figures,” Angie muttered as she wielded the knife, “I don’t suppose they even wished you a happy birthday?”

  “No.”

  The knife slammed into the cake, and Angie cut it from corner to corner in the shape of an ‘x’.  Her dark face – of Indian origins – scrunched into a scowl as she continued cutting the rectangle cake with the stripes of a star.

***

Five years later

  Erik yanked his bags out of the bus and watched as the driver pulled the doors down and slammed them shut. He tipped his hat at Erik and then climbed back into the vehicle. With a hiss the doors closed and the buss roared to down the road.

  Erik scowled at the bus but sighed inwardly. He had hated the boarding school, hated the fellow students, and hated the teachers, but he hated coming back home. Home to what? A widowed mother, a dead father, and a three-year-old sister… if it was still his home.

  He always lived assured, since he was five, that his foster parents would never give him up. When they sent him to an all boy’s boarding school, he was doubtful and suspicious. When his dad died he gained courage that his mom would need him. When she got remarried his assurance wavered. When Sharon was born… he lost all hope.

  Erik pulled out his mobile and dialed the new home number. “Yeah, hi, it’s me, Erik. I’m at the bus stop, can you pick me up? Thanks.” He snapped his mobile shut.

  Fifteen minutes later a silver Mercedes rolled up. Erik opened the trunk door and dumped his bags inside. Then he climbed in shotgun and buckled himself up.

  “Hello Erik, good to see you again.” A balding man in his middle forties greeted.

  Erik nodded, “Hi Gabe, how’s the legs?”

  The older man shifted in his seat, “I still can’t walk good, but I can drive.” He grinned, “Joan’s prepared something special for you.”

  Erik managed a smile, “That’s mom.”

  Gabe pushed the car into gear, and they started off. The silence in the car was uncomfortable, but not heavy. Erik leaned against the door and looked out the window into the darkening day.

  “I’m sorry she couldn’t make it to your graduation because I was in the hospital,” Gabe apologized, “It doesn’t seem fair. But let me make it up to you sometime. Joan said you wanted to be a firefighter. I reckon you’ll want to study in a bigger town than here.”

  Erik gave a noncommittal response.

  Gabe changed the subject, “You know, Sharon said the funniest thing today –” his voice was brimming with pride.

  Erik ignored him.



  Erik looked around his new room. His mom had changed houses after she married Gabe. This one was bigger and brighter, and his room was spacious.

  “Do you like it, Erik?” His mom asked anxiously from the doorway. Little Sharon stood beside her, silently staring with huge hazel eyes at the tall teenager that was her brother.

  Erik turned and smiled. He wrapped his long arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s nice, mom.” He laid his cheek on her head.

  She pulled back and looked up at him, “You’ve grown huge, Erik. What did they feed you there? Last I remembered Angela was taller than you!”

  Erik chuckled, and then stopped, “Is Angie still in town?” He asked.

  His mom shifted uncomfortably, “She is,” she said distantly.

  “Oh.” He nodded and looked around.

  “I’m here!”

  Erik looked above his mom’s head. Coming out of a bedroom on the other side of the hall was Angie – tall, slim, curvaceous, dark, and wild.

  “Angie.” He whispered.

  “Hey, Erik!” She grinned at him as she sauntered forward. His eyes dropped to her waist, watching her hips move. Her long slim legs were in tight jeans that were slashed and frayed. Her breasts pressed against an orange shirt that clung to her curves but still managed to be wrinkled. Her hair was long and messy, but her brown eyes glowed with laughter.

  Erik pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and smiled – swallowing.

  His mom patted his arm, “I have a surprise!” She glanced at both of them and continued, “Angela will be moving in with us. Gabe and I are working on the adoption papers.” She beamed on them both.

  “I’m going to be adopted?” Angie asked, bewildered.

  “You’re going to adopt her?” Erik said.

  “Well thanks!” Angie retorted.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Erik replied quickly, “It’s just that… we’re going to be related!”

  Angie didn’t move. She seemed to have frozen in place, except for her eyes which grew wider and wider.

  “How come nobody seems to be happy about this?” His mom demanded, putting her hands on her hips and thrumming her fingers.

  Erik forced a smile and kissed her cheek, “It’s great mom.” He lied.

  Angie said nothing.

  “Well!” His mom huffed, “I need to see about dinner,” her face softened, “But you two catch up, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” She bustled down the hall calling for Sharon to follow her. Sharon looked once more at Erik before she ran off to her mother.

  Angie and Erik looked at each other. Both had grown so much. Erik had stretched in height and muscular build, while Angie was the same height as before but most definitely a woman.

  Erik remembered the last time he saw her, four years ago. She was scrawny, scarred from her street fights and misadventures, short hair askew, and always wore a T-shirt that said “I lost my brains in quicksand”. She had kissed him goodbye… on the mouth. He was ashamed to remember that he had blushed and fled to the safety of the bus.

  He looked at her clothes and her hair; it was definitely the same Angie. And Angie would come and hug him. She always did.

  Angie didn’t. She stood staring at him in the middle of the hall, her hands loosely at her sides and her feet spread, her weight balanced evenly.

  Erik tried to remember what that meant. The stance reminded him of something, tugged furiously at his mind, but it eluded him when he tried to grasp it.

  Angie dove at him, catching him off guard, and brought him to the floor.

  “You don’t want to be my brother!” She yelled and swung a fist at his face.

  Erik dodged it and grabbed her wrist, “No, I don’t.” He agreed and rolled her over.

  “Why not?!”

  Her other fist was flying at his jaw. He arrested it and pushed it above her head. He leaned his face to hers and kissed her. “That’s why not.” He growled.

  He got up quickly and moved out of reach, the years of wrestling with her quickly remembered. How had he forgotten that? He stared at her as she slowly got to her feet and rearranged her breasts in her bra. That’s how.

  Angie looked at him and grinned, “You’ve gotten a lot stronger.”

  “Thanks.” He said dryly.

  “I remember when I always used to beat you.”

  “Yeah, I remember that too.” He leaned against the white wall and crossed his arms.

  She stalked over to him and reached out. He flinched. Years of knowing her had come back, and the years of flinching and dodging that had saved him from many bruises had became habitual. She ignored it and grabbed his hair. She pulled his face down to hers, “I don’t want to be your sister, either.”

  “Then why did you –” her mouth silenced him.

  And she’s going to live right across the hall, he thought dreamily and hugged her close.

***

Three years later

  As Angie walked to the orphanage, she glanced down at her engagement ring for the millionth time. It was a yellow diamond set in silver, simple but elegant, and she loved it. She thought of Erik. Erik had stayed in town and become a fireman. He rented a little apartment that she moved into with him, and now they were saving up for a house. They were getting married next year.

  It was just a little after six. She already had dinner, but she was taking a new CD to the orphanage. The kids had asked for it, and who was she to say no? Angie felt the disk in her pocket and smiled.

  She saw a red glow in the distance, and heard shouting and screaming.

  FIRE!FIRE!

  She broke into a run as she hoped, hoped, it wasn’t the orphanage.

  It was.

  The building was in flames that licked higher and higher into the dark sky. A group of children were huddled together with some neighbors, crying or just staring in shock.

  “Did someone call the fire department?” She yelled, feeling silly as she asked the question.

  “They’re on their way!” Someone yelled back.

  She jerked her cellphone out of her pocket and speed-dialed Erik’s number. “Honey, there’s a fire at the orphanage!” She shouted before he could answer.

  “We’re on our way! Please don’t go –”

  Angie snapped it shut before she could promise him anything. “How many kids are here?” She demanded as she strode to the group.

  “Paulie is still in there,” Katrina sobbed, “And Little Jessica.”

  “Little Jessica? And Paulie?” Angie’s heart sank, “Where were they?”

  “I don’t know,” Katrina wailed, “The playroom, maybe.”

  Without thinking twice, Angie dashed to the house. She ignored the protests and savagely fought off the hands that grabbed at her. She jumped the fence and entered through the side-door.



  Erik cursed again and again as he maneuvered the huge engine through the tight streets. Angie was bound to do something reckless. It was the orphanage, her home, that was on fire!

  The orphanage was burning madly, and the little strings of people passing buckets and throwing water was doing nothing at all. The orders were shouted and Erik, the second best paramedic, went to check on the children.

  “Is anyone hurt here?” Erik asked the children as he glanced worriedly around for Angie.

  “Paulie’s hurt the worst,” A little sandy hair girl sniffled, “But Little Jessica is still in there.”

  “The baby?!” Erik felt sick.

  “But Angie went in to get her.”

  Erik bit his tongue to stop the curses, “Zelda. ZELDA!” He roared for the other paramedic as he jogged back to the truck, “See to the kids!”

  A crash came from the house, and sparks flew. Erik nearly screamed. He drenched his clothes in water and ran to the house.

  “Erik! Don’t!” His superior shouted.

  “Angie’s in there!” Erik pulled tight the strap on his helmet and dove into the furnace.

***

  “Hey honey,” Erik said with a smile as he held awkwardly a bouquet of yellow tiger lilies, “I brought you these.” He put them beside Angie and smiled a little. He was dressed in a tuxedo and a white rose was pinned to his chest.

  Angie smiled.

  “The wedding’s in a few minutes and I have to go.” He grinned recklessly, “I know you’ll be there.”

  Angie smiled.

  “I love you,” He whispered and touched her hand, “Forever and ever.” He turned. Jessica smiled up at him and her cheeks dimpled. She slipped her feet back into her high heels and stood up.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, Jessica?”

  “I’m glad you’re getting married.”

  “So am I.”

  They looked once more at the cold, granite statue of Angie, and left the cemetery.