Virginia quickly closed the book and set it inside the sink's cabinet. "Yes. Yes, I'm good."
She stood up and opened the door. Charles stood there to greet her.
"Good news!" he said with a big smile. "The storm has passed."
"Oh, well, that's good!" she said, her nerves finally calming down.
Charles studied her alert, timid expression. "Are you okay?"
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine. Just a little startled by everything that took place and all…"
"Oh, okay."
Charles smiled as he gave more good news. "Your uncle is almost here. He says sorry, but there was a tree down on the road. He and a few others blocked in traffic were able to move it off the street, and he is now on his way home."
Virginia seemed to be less enthusiastic. "Oh. Okay… Well, that's good to know."
"You don't seem too thrilled."
"Well, I am!"
Charles turned his head sideways and looked at her with one eye. "You say that, but the tone in your voice almost sounds like you're not too excited to see him. Am I mistaken?"
Virginia lowered her gaze. "I just don't know him…"
"Well, why don't you get to know him more?"
"I'm not sure if I should."
"Why not?"
Virginia turned her head away. "Because I'm afraid to…"
"Why are you afraid to?"
Virginia paused for a long moment before answering. "You don't understand, Charles. You wouldn't understand. When the one you love is taken from you, a bond built between you is hit in the worst of ways. No matter how much you cry or beg, you can never get that person back once they are gone. It is better never to have loved at all."
"Do you really believe that?"
There was an awkward moment's pause before Virginia responded. "Yes… I do."
"Once again, your voice seems to say something different from your words."
Virginia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You wouldn't understand."
"Don't say that. I may not look like it, but I did lose someone close to me, too."
Virginia turned her head and looked into Charles's eyes. "Who?"
"My mother."
"What?"
Charles had a peaceful smile on his face. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak. "When I was five years old, someone broke into my house at night. I was little, but I still remember seeing a figure silhouetted in the doorframe of my room. It was dark, tall, and had the most horrid, lifeless eyes you've ever seen. I've never seen a man like this before. He came into my room towards my bed. I had never been so afraid, but I had never felt such love before either."
Virginia did not know how to take that. "What do you mean?"
Charles continued. "Before the man could reach my bed, someone grabbed his hair from behind and hurled him back towards the door. I soon saw that it was my mother. I had never seen such strength in her as I saw that night. She stood between the man and me. He got back up, laughing at her. He drew a knife from his belt and came at her. To my surprise, she did not move. She stood there and fought back. They both grabbed each other. The man tried to get to me the whole time. There was one point in the fight when he tossed my mother down. As soon as she hit the floor, he raised the knife towards me and brought it down. I closed my eyes and screamed but never felt the knife hit me. I opened my eyes and saw my mother's back positioned in front of me; the knife that was meant for me was thrust deep into her chest."
Virginia could not believe what her ears were hearing. She stared at Charles with sorrow and more respect. "What happened then?"
"The man was shocked. I can still remember his eyes—they were mystified by the act of my mother. She stared back at him. He slowly let go of the knife handle and stepped back. I jumped out of my bed crying. The man saw me and drew another knife, but I did not care. I charged at him, yelling and crying at the same time. He held the knife up, ready to strike me, but something happened…."
Charles looked off into space, searching for the right words.
"What?" asked Virginia. "What happened?"
"It's hard to explain right now," he replied. "I can only describe it as a miracle."
He searched a moment longer and finally spoke. "My mother began to sing in this different language that I had only heard her sing over me when she would tuck me in at night. A flash of light entered the room, and the man became momentarily blinded. The light was so bright that he dropped the knife and placed both hands over his eyes. The light did not hurt me, though. I picked up the knife he dropped on the floor and sliced his knee with it. He fell down to my level. His hands came off his face, and he and I saw eye to eye for the first time. With one last stroke, I brought the knife's edge across his face, trailing across his right eye and his nose. He let out a loud cry and left my room. He was never seen or heard of again. When the police arrived, they found me trying to wake up my mother."
Charles's eyes began to water and slowly turned red. "Up to that point in my life, I had no idea what death was. I thought she was asleep. They found my father unconscious in the master bedroom. Someone had struck him from behind before the fight took place. For five days, I did not say a word. I did not know how to understand everything that happened: the fight, the light, the man who tried to kill me. All I wanted was to see my mother. I can still remember my dad; his eyes were blood-shot red and watered with tears."
Charles's eyes began to water a bit more. "He took me to where she was buried—it was my first time at a cemetery; I had no idea where we were or why my mom would be there. We walked to a tombstone that bore my mother's name. He tried his hardest to explain it to me, but all I could understand was that my mother was buried underground. I got down on my knees and began clawing at the ground, trying to get the dirt off her. I was yelling and screaming, asking why they put her in the ground and shouting that she wasn't supposed to be there. My dad had to use every ounce of strength to pull me off the ground. He held me tightly in his arms and told me, 'Mommy was gone; she is in Heaven.' I then realized everything: my mother was not coming back."
Virginia was struggling to hold back her tears. She wished she could take back everything she said about Charles being unable to understand. If anything, he was the only one that could understand her.
"I'm so sorry, Charles," she said. "I cannot imagine how that was for you at such a young age."
Charles smiled and quickly wiped his forming tears away with his fingers. "Don't be. I know I will see her again; now, I have that hope. It's with me all the time."
"What do you mean?"
"While we never found the murderer, I personally found that light and the source of that tongue that my mother had spoken in before her passing. It now resides in me."
"I still don't understand what you are talking about. I assumed that light you spoke of was a flashlight or something like it that your mother had with her."
Charles looked deep into her eyes. "Not exactly a flashlight, but I believe with all my heart that you will understand very soon."
Okay, some other kind of technology, then? "Charles, you are really confusing me."
Charles smiled. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he led her into the kitchen. "All in good time. For now, let's get something to drink. I'm really thirsty."