IGNATIUS The Colors of Rage

Chapter 2 c Judgment

“Oh yeah…” Baine walked to the bedside chair and sat down. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.” 

Nansen shifted toward the door. “Also... “ he added, “Iggy tried leaping head first out of the window while you were gone.”

Baine straightened his back. “He did what?” 

Nansen nodded. “You heard me right. I suggest that we make this room a bit safer.” He stepped through the door. “Bye.”

Baine glanced around the bedroom and saw large amounts of art supplies, sharp utensils, and strings. A million things that could be used to kill or at the very least injure oneself. “I thought I’d be able to rest now,” he sighed. He stood and began working to clean out the room of suicide hazards, all while the two slept like rocks.

Emi’s warmth was a magnet for Iggy, but he wouldn’t have known. Through the night, he inched closer and closer to her until his flank was pressed flat against hers. Her touch was warm like an inviting fire. He could feel it clearly, better than he felt the mattress underneath or the blanket above.

She didn’t mind, either. At home, she never slept alone. She dreamt that she was home again, in her bed, and her little sister Sarah laid next to her, humming an obnoxiously repetitive tune. It was typical for a seven year old. There was a smell of root vegetables in the air, coming from the kitchen stove, even though it was summer and out of season.

Iggy’s arm extended over her back. She felt the weight, noting that it was heavier than Sarah’s, and she opened her eyes. The bandaged swollen face across from hers was unknown, unfamiliar. Her head pulled up and the smell of boiled root vegetables became stronger. 

On the bedside table there was a steaming bowl of potatoes and carrots.  She propped herself up, sliding his arm off of her, and came to sitting. She took the bowl into her lap and cupped the warmth with her hands. 

The memories were coming back to her. Why she was there. How she had gotten there… She stood from the bed. Baine sat back in his chair tucked away in the corner sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest. She ate quietly, not to disturb him, but then Iggy shuffled behind her. 

His dream was nothing like her heaven. He could see the dark haired woman leaning over him, smiling with her vicious teeth, drooling on his face. He squirmed beneath her grasp, but he couldn’t get free. His leg kicked, his arm whacked the mattress next to himself, and he groaned something. 

Abruptly, he shot up to sitting. His chest retracted as he panted. A layer of sweat gathered across his forehead. His eyes were large and round, looking, but not seeing. He held his right arm out to feel for anything in his personal space. He felt his bed, his blanket, and his legs. His head dropped and he caught his breath. Then, he cupped the side of his head with his palm, and in an instant, he started to weep.

Emi grasped the bowl tighter in between her hands, unsure of what to do. “Iggy…” she cleared her throat.

He scratched the tears from his eyes and sniffled. His voice was raw and angry. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Here,” she held out the bowl. “Someone brought us food.”

He threw his hand out, attempting to hit the bowl out of her hand, but he was far off target. He growled and stomped up to his feet. Feeling with the palms of his hands, he followed the wall to the curtain covered window. He uncovered it and placed his hands on the latch. As he went to pry it open, the handle wouldn’t turn. He grasped it in his fist and lashed it back and forth. Still, it wouldn’t budge. He found the next window and had the same result. Furious, he ventured away from the wall with his hand out. He stubbed his toe on his desk and nearly knocked over a lamp. His furniture had been rearranged.

Emi lingered near his side. “Where are you trying to go?” she inquired. 

“To the toilet,” he snapped. 

He shuffled in the direction of the closet, which was on the opposite side of the bedroom as the bathroom. She set down the bowl and grasped his hand. “You’re going the wrong way.”

Her hand was warm and soft like a rose petal. The frustration, anger, and madness in him paused and he grasped it back. “What is this?”

“My hand,” she answered, pulling him in the direction of the bathroom. After he used the toilet, and then she used it, she guided him back to the bed, where they sat side by side. Emi spooned the vegetables into her mouth, then brushed Iggy’s arm. “Here.” She slid the spoon into his hand. 

He took a bite and slowly crushed the half boiled potato with his flat teeth. She refilled the spoon and placed it in his hand again, but he gave it back. “My brothers can’t cook.” He turned his head toward her. “Where did you come from? Why are you here?”

She looked him straight in the center of his right pupil, however she stared right through him. “Soldiers came from outside of the wall…” she said, her eyes filled with big hot tears yet were still staring. “They were murderous. I could hear them from under the floorboards, shooting my family... one by one, until they were all dead.” The first tear rolled down her cheek. “My father and mother, and my sister, Sarah.” She inhaled through her tight throat. “I was all alone when the grenades… happened. I hid in the hole and the house collapsed over me. When they left, I couldn’t get out. So, I waited, but no one came.” She dropped her chin and the tears rolled down her cheeks like boulders. “I was going to die.” Suddenly, her eyes focused and the tears stopped refilling themselves. She continued with a full hopeful tone, “Baine saved me. Now, I am here.” She took in a large inhale, then recomposed herself. “Now that you know, tell me what happened to you.”