A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 113: Reimbursing the Garden

"How would you like to help out in the garden today, dear?" Naya asks bright and early, feigning fatigue. I know this lady quite well: She might look like she's in her 70s, but she's still spry, fit, and energetic, and she enjoys getting things done with her hands. So, thanks to my ergokinesis, I know she's only hoping to talk. I swallow but smile.

"Sure," I say, happy to help her out anyway. "Where's Henry?"

"Oh, he's working," she says. "Cabs don't drive themselves, honey. Let's leave him to do a good man's work. Besides, between you and me, Henny isn't the greatest at getting his hands dirty."

I laugh a bit at that. "Really? Hasn't he ever played outside when he was little in the mud and dirt before? You know, just being a kid?"

"Of course, but Henny's always been cleaner than the other boys," she explains, then winks at me. "Least until he became a teen."

I tend to her tomato vines while she begins to work on her marigolds next door. I put fresh fertilizer around them, water them, retighten the wires supporting their stems, and help her pick the ones that are ready to eat. Meanwhile, she plants herself on her knees beside me, digging out weeds, and replanting fresh marigolds to replace the ones that couldn't withstand the heat, and it's only when we're ready to move on to the next bunch of plants that she brings up "my friends."

"Have you spoken to them lately?" she wonders. "How are they?"

"I—They're good," I tell her. "Getting along, I think."

"How about that boy you always talked about?" I bristle at that, knowing she's talking about my alien boy, fumbling with the clippers to trim the leaves of her rose bush. "Did you two reunite?"

"We did..." I start, unsure how to continue.

"And? How is he?"

"He's good, for the most part," I mutter.

Naya leans away from her basket of carrots, and just vaguely, she grazes the back of my wrist. I look up at her. "What is it, honey? You know you can tell me, don't you?"

I sigh. It's a heavy-hearted sigh, but I know I can't hide it from her. As much as I don't want to keep rehashing it over and over, I'm going to need to tell her eventually. After all, it's the whole reason why I'm here. "We had a fight," I murmur. "He didn't act, or I mean, treat me the way I wanted him to, and—I kind of broke up with him for it. I didn't mean to though; I was upset, and I wanted him, but I also didn't. Not if he would treat me... like that."

"I understand," she says, but I'm not so sure she does. Henry said that, and I don't think he did. Nobody could possibly know what this feels like, to know what it's like to constantly screw up.

"I don't know why this keeps happening to me," I tell her. "First it was that stupid dictator, now this... It's like I can't have anything with anyone without messing it up or making some big mistake. I ruined my life twice now; I shouldn't be blaming John or Nine or anyone else."

"Emily, you know none of what happened in the past is our fault."

"Then who's is it?" I ask. "And why would they make any of this happen to me?!"

"It's no one's, dear," she says. "It's in God's hands. Only he knows why he sends good and bad to us all. You ought to believe in that." But I shake my head.

If God is so special—real even—he wouldn't let any of this happen to me to begin with. He's God after all. I almost hate Naya for bringing him into this, an unimaginable figurehead of perpetual wisdom and immortality. Geez, what I would give for immortality these days...

"I know you don't believe, dear," Naya goes on, "but sometimes believing isn't a bad thing."

"I'd rather believe in something that I know exists," I mutter and regret it afterwards. "I mean, something that I know is either trying to help me or ruin me, and something that can tell me why. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I don't need any false hope."

"False hope is never my intention, Emily," she says. "You know that."

"I know." I think she's taking what I said to heart. "I'm sorry."

She lowers her head and returns to her carrot picking. "It sounds to me like you both need to talk," she says, almost absentmindedly, as if she's talking to herself. "Have you been doing that? Honestly, that is?"

"Well, not lately," I admit. "But I used to tell him everything."

"And was it always true?"

"True?" I can't believe she would even consider that. "Of course. I could never lie to him."

"And what about now? You can?"

"I—" I bite my lip, knowing the reason why I lied to him to begin with, the reason that brought us into this whole mess. "It was complicated. I didn't think he'd understand, and I didn't want to burden him with it. He didn't deserve to be mixed into my chaos."

"But don't you think he has a right to know anyway?" Naya wonders, and I can't help but think that's true. "Don't you think he cares enough to know anything that concerns you? You've been with this boy for a while, haven't you?"

"Well, sure, maybe," I utter. "But how? How can I possibly explain to him what happened?" Even the idea is enough to send me shaking again.

"Well... what if you told me first?" Naya proposes. "To practice."

"To practice?"

"If you want to," she says, shrugging. "It's just a suggestion, dear. You don't need to if you aren't comfortable."

Aren't comfortable? It's not that I'm not comfortable talking to Naya; it's just that I don't know if she'll understand. How do I know she won't think there's something wrong with me?

Naya puts a hand on my arm, then takes the shovel from me. "This is the reason you came to Okinawa, isn't it?" she asks. Shit. She knows. "You were looking for advice."

I sit back on my heels, succumbing to the silence of the garden yet trying to keep the tears out of it. "Yes and no," I admit. "I wanted to see you too," I say, "but yeah. I didn't know what else to do. I thought you might... help in some way."

"I don't have any easy answers, Emily," she says, and there's a part of me that's disappointed to hear that, but at the same time, I know it's true. "I'm just an old woman looking after my raw veggies after all. I can only give you advice on what to do in your life based on what's happened in mine. It's up to you whether you want to heed it or not."

"I know..." I tell her. "I just thought... well, I don't know what I thought. I needed to get away from them all, even if just for a little bit."

"I understand." Her arm slinks around me then and wraps me into a close hug. She's warm, likely a factor of the autumn sun beating down on her. "Come. Let's go inside and make some stew for lunch. Henny will be home soon, and I bet he'll be hungry."