Bleeding Cross by Aaron Dawbot

Author:Aaron Dawbot [DAWBOT, AARON]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Published: 2017-12-28T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

* * *

The next day, Thomas woke up in a dried stain of his own sweat. The witching night had taken its toll on the man, every bone and crevice lashed at his stiff body. Thomas swiped a thick film of sweat from his forehead, and collected himself to the bathroom. He combed the thick locks of black hair. Then relieved himself from his drenched shirt.

His old body was a living relic, branded with deliberate bulging wounds of the past, in the form of thick scars, etched on his torso. Numerous tattooed hieroglyphs rode along the dark brown scars curving along the periphery of a central circle. A tapering column of symbols and glyphs pierced the circle on his chest and shot down to his navel. Every uncanny letter marked with black ink, standing as a message of his past. They looked as new as the day he first saw them.

Minutes later, Thomas was in a fresh white shirt and his usual black jacket. He ran down to see the boys waiting in the van. Lonnie frowned at him, "You look like Hell went loose on ya."

Thomas ignored his remark,

He was getting in the van when Lonnie grabbed him by the shoulder it stretched the fine white fabric, "Did it happen again?"

"I'm fine, Lonnie. Now let's get to work," Thomas said with a hint of subtle irritation.

Lonnie nudged his chin to Fitz, the boy closed the van doors and Lonnie looked at Thomas who was caressing his forehead from the incessant pounding headache.

"No greater curse." Lonnie whispered.

An hour later, Thomas was walking the narrow stone lane lining the curved flower beds in Still Water's front garden. His eyes feasted on the glinting dewdrops shining on the leaves, the flower beds offered him a visual cleanse from the horrid visions he had to endure.

He was awakened from his reverie by Sister Louise. Her face carried the usual warm and tender welcome. "Good morning, Mr. Arsen."

"Good morning, Sister," he gave a cordial short bow.

"I see you're enjoying your morning stroll in our garden,"

"Yes...it's a wonderful sight. A source of visual relief."

"Relief of what?" she asked.

"I guess from the tribulations of everyday life," Thomas almost blushed.

"Ah…I see."

"I like that one the most," Thomas pointed to a small white flower barely rising from the ground

"You mean the white wake-robin," Louise said. "It is beautiful indeed."

"It doesn't follow the main pattern; scatters all over," Thomas wondered.

"That's because we never had a role in planting them, Mr. Arsen. It belongs to the land itself.”

Thomas continued his silence, urging for a more elaborate explanation.

Louise smiled, "This flower is ephemeral. It buds from the ground, then quickly dies after giving its seed. You could say like a sacrificing mother."

"So, a short living creature that offers all time it has for the love of its children?"

"Precisely! You could say its beauty is even amplified by its short existence," Louise said.

"And you allow it to grow among your flowers, giving it the chance to fulfill its purpose."

Louise nodded, her iridescent eyes shining against the glint of morning drops.

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