Running from the Past -Book One in Paradise Mountains Series

4. Alexander

    The sun was bright in the sky, although the day was cooler that a few weeks ago. I was in Paradise Mountain for two weeks, and my car was still at Mack’s. Mary had borrowed her’s – their little version of “Loner” – but I didn’t it for much since the market was nearby and I liked the walking.

    Since I was still the newcomer, I was on edge because everyone seemed to be pointing their fingers at me. It seemed wherever I went, there would be hush conversations and pointy fingers. The couple running the market was nice, but the woman talked a lot. Bernice was maybe the most talkative person I had ever met and the most discomfiting as well. Thin, black haired and with a smile that would make me shiver, she used to rant all day and constantly ask questions.

    "Where are you from, dear?"

    "I’m from…"

    "Have you been travelling a lot?"

    "Not really..."

    "Oh, what lovely shade your eyes are… and your hair, I could kill for hair like that… is it natural? Mine comes from a box…"

    Luckily she never seemed to wait for an answer, but she could go on and on and on. Her husband was the quiet type, putting my groceries in bag and speaking only when he could. Or when his wife would stop to catch her breath, which didn’t happen often.

    For my sake, I had created a whole new me. Elisabeth was as distant of Nadine as it was humanly possible without making any mistakes. I kept looking behind my shoulder, fearing Thomas would jump out of a nearby tree and take me home by my hair, but as time passed, I was feeling more relaxed.

    On that specific day, I was too distracted. I just had one of my worse nights since I had fled, one in which Thomas had found out the truth and would come for me, to punish me. I had woken up with a scream, my scream, to the sound of his fists slamming my face. I was shaking and I was unable of sleeping again. So I was already on edge when I went to the market, shopping for Mary’s diner. I brushed away Bernice’s questions, and I left as soon as I could but at the door, someone bumped against me and I fell to the ground with a loud thud. Immediately the voice of Thomas crawled through my mind:

    "You i***t! Can’t you do anything right?"

    It took me a while to understand that the voice that was speaking to me wasn’t Thomas’s but another man.

    "Hey, are you ok?"

    Large hands started picking up the fallen groceries and panic climbed up to my chest, rendering impossible for me to breath.

   "Oh dear, are you all right?"

    It was Bernice’s voice that made me wake up from my transe. The voice did not belong to Thomas and I had just made a fool out of myself.

    Bernice, in the meanwhile, was in a runt:

·   "You should really see were you’re going, Alex, you’re always with your head up in the clouds…"

·    "I was just entering..."

     "Well you had better sight entering than her leaving, Alexander Anderson. Jeez…"

    I had finally found my voice when those two strong harms pulled me up and I faced the most expressive eyes I had ever faced in my life.  They were warm, of the brightest blue I had ever seen, and at least at that time, they were wrinkled with preoccupation. 

    "Are you okay?"

    It strucked me that it was the second time he asked me that. Thomas didn’t like to repeat himself, but Thomas didn’t have those warm, caring eyes. I finally found my voice.

    "I’m fine, thank you. It was all my fault, really…"

    "Agree. But care to tell Bernice that?"

    His voice was amused and his rapid acquiescence made me eye him with suspicion. He brushed away my concern with a careless laugh and said:

    "Forget it. Bernice has already pinned the blame on me anyway. I’m Alexander Anderson. My friends call me Alex."

    I shook his hand, taking care for my shopping bag not to fall again. 

    "Nice to meet you, Mr Anderson…"

    He forrowed is brow, in a mock concern.

    "Now, didn’t I tell you that my friends call me Alex?"

    "Oh, so that’s what we are? I thought we were complete strangers…"

    "Are you kidding? Gramps talks about you and your pecan pie all the time…"

    "Gramps?"

    "He is Herbie’s grandson."

    Bernice’s voice come from behind me and scared the bejezus out of me. When did she get so near without me knowing? I was getting careless…

    Alex grabbed my shopping bag and asked:

    "Going to Mary’s? I’ll help you, I’ll meet Herbie there…"

    "You wanted something, Alex?"

    God bless noisy women. Alex made a U turn in his tracks, seemed to remember something and rattled off a list of ingredients. But when I though I would get my groceries back, he just asked, while adjusting the bag’s weight:

    "Could you order them for next week?"

    "Sure thing. "

    He turned to me, an easy smile across his lips. I didn’t trust him, hell, Thomas made it difficult for me to trust in anyone, but I had no choice but to follow them. He was a foot at least taller than me, and much stronger. With those biceps of his, he seemed more used to lift weights than shopping bags, but there he was, a carefree smile on his lips, his dark blonde hair glistening in the Autumn sun, carrying my groceries. 

    "How long will you be staying with us?"

His question seemed simple, but I had learned long ago not to take anything for granted.

    "A while."

    "Oh, that’s right, your car’s at Mack’s, right? When do you think it will be ready?"

    "Don’t know."

    "Yeah, I should probably ask Mack that… You’re the talk of the town, y’a know?"

    "I am?"

    "Yeah, your cooking skills are up to the roof, or so I heard. Never tried them myself."

Was he actually trying to make small talk? I was already on edge due to the nightmare, the all bumping into him had brought bad memories on the surface and I really need some time alone so I could chill.

    "Are you always this talkative?"

    His voice brought me back from the depths of my mind and I was startled for a while.

    "Yes."

    His laugh surprised me. I thought he would sour due to my lack of answers, but that only seemed to amuse him. Luckily we had arrived at Mary’s diner and I let out a small sigh of relief. Once there, he would run out of excuses to be near me, wouldn’t he? 

    "Now look what the cat brought in."

    It was Herbie’s voice, and I attempted a smile:

    "Hi, Herbie."

    The old man frowned and looked at Alexander by my side:

    "Now what have you been doing to her, you rascal? She looks like she’s seen a ghost…"

    "She has seen one of you, so I’d say its punishment enough."

    It was Mary’s rash voice and I sighed in relief. At least she seemed to be on my side.

    "She’s been having a huge headache since yesterday, and all that babbling is only making her more uncomfortable."

    I had? I looked at Alexander, who seemed to be studying me with prying eyes, but it was Herbie who said:

    "My grandson has the effect of making ladies faint, that’s for sure."

    "They only faint to escape you, you old buffon."

    Mary’s prompt answer brought a smile to Alexander’s face, who looked at her and said:

    "Nah, they’re dying to fall in my arms. Isn’t it right, dear?"

    Why was he talking to me again? Mary’s made up headache was suddenly turning very real. I took his bag from his arms and answered shortly:

    "Wouldn’t know, never fainted."

    As I took the shopping inside the kitchen, I heard Herbie laugh wholeheartedly:

    "I think she likes you, son."

    I had barely time to put the bag on the counter when it started. A slow pressure creeping up my chest. I wanted to breath but nothing came through. I feel down on my knees as my legs could not sustain me anymore, and pointy colorful dots danced before my eyes. I gasped for air when the incredible pressure seemed to climb from my chest to my head. I had to get up. I had to stand, no one could see me like that… I had to…

    "Elisabeth! What happened?"

    I gasped, clawing my way through my chest, trying to alleviate the pain, but it was no use, the incredible pressure just lurched itself until it climbed through my neck, running through my head.

    When I thought I was going to die from lack of hair, it passed. So fast as it had arrived, it stopped. All that was left was the tiredness, the mind-blowing headache and the weakness. It had robbed me of my words. Vaguely I sensed Mary near me, trying to put her hand in my forehead, unsure of what to do. I heard “doctor” but I needed no doctor, I just wanted a place to call my one and rest. I would be fine if I could just rest a bit. I grab her hand and placed it in my chest. She could feel it bumping furiously against my rib cage, as if I had just run a marathon. She was worried, I could tell. But unfortunately, I was no stranger to these attacks and I knew they would soon come to pass. I just need rest.

    "Rest..."    

    She understood my babbling and helped me to my feet. My voice was but a whisper. Relieved that I had enough strength left to stand on my legs, she eyed me worriedly when I gestured upstairs. 

    "Yes, you go rest now… no worries, I have everything covered…"

    She helped me to my room and even close down the curtains. It was something so motherly of hers that I felt my eyes tearing up. I was twenty-four years old and no one, not even once, had done something so wonderful for me. I closed my eyes and fell in an exhausted sleep almost immediately.