Mercy: Chapter 3

God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages.
- Jacques Deval

Ryan was beginning to think it was a mistake to have come back to the same church Sunday, and then the following Thursday. Everyone seemed initially happy he was there, but now the truth was starting to show itself.

He didn’t know what kind of college small group had little kids at it. There was one, who, Ryan swore was about ten years old. But that wasn’t true, and it turned out that the kid was fourteen, and smarter than Ryan had ever been at any point in his entire life.

Closing his eyes, Ryan thought about everything. Alex’s decision to invite him was nice, but unnecessary. Besides, maybe she was just offering out of politeness and hadn’t expected him to actually show. Well, it was too late now. He had already frightened some unsuspecting teenage girl, by offering to hold the door for her. Plus, now her older brother was giving him looks that were scary as hell.

Julia saw him from across the room - the new guy Alex brought. She didn’t know where she found these people. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person who would end up in their church. She had listened as he introduced himself - and stopped when he said he was an addict.

That explained it.

Belle approached Ryan then.

“You want coffee or anything? I can get you some.” she offered.

Ryan looked up from his thoughts, surprised. “No, you don’t have to do that. This your place?” he asked, wondering if this girl felt undue pressure to play hostess.

Laughing, Belle assured him. “No, this is Micah’s place. But he won’t bring you anything unless you bribe him,” she smiled easily, indicating the smallish guy with dark hair, who bounced around like a super ball.

“I can get it…” Ryan returned, standing, wanting to absolve her of any duties she felt she had toward him. If he didn’t, he feared he’d be perceived not only as the addict, but also as the chauvinist.

“Sit. I wanna do this for you. I’m getting myself something too, and then we can talk and stuff.” Belle explained, satisfied when he took his seat again. “How do you take it?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Black’s fine.” Ryan answered, still feeling uncomfortable that this girl was so intent on serving him. Hadn’t she been listening when he told his story? Did she think it was all a joke?

Suddenly, the couch beside Ryan gave mightily as Chris got comfortable.

“Hey, dude…” he greeted.

“Hey…” Ryan returned, wondering what kind of surprise he was in for now.

“People treatin’ you all right?” Chris wondered.

Ryan nodded faintly, not mentioning the half-dozen or so comments he’d heard behind his back about the cell group degenerating into an AA meeting or a halfway house. Or the jokes about getting the beer from the other room.

Belle came back then, carrying two cups. One had a tea bag in it.

Chris stood. “I was just leavin’.” he said, taking the cups from Belle and waiting for her to get settled.

She smiled up at him, waiting.

Chris studied both beverages, decidedly handing the tea to Belle.

“Aw Chris, you know me so well,” she grinned. “That was Chris,” she indicated him. “And I’m Belle, if I forgot to mention that.” she introduced.

Ryan smiled. “That’s okay.” He took a sip of coffee. It wasn’t as strong as he would have liked, but it was better than nothing.

“So, how are you doing?” she asked seriously.

Ryan was startled - not so much by the question, but the directness of her tone. “Honestly?”

Belle nodded, keeping her gaze steady.

“I want a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Belle raised her tea cup a little, smiling gently. “Well it’s a good thing you’ve got coffee now, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s better than nothing,” he admitted.

“You want to drink because you’re not comfortable here?” she wondered.

Ryan nodded, surprised again by her fearlessness. “Let’s just say there’s several people who would like it better if I went and found a bar, rather than contaminating this place with an alcoholic.”

The pain in his eyes was raw, and Belle saw it before he looked away.

“That’s probably true. But there’s also several people who are glad you’re here. Chris, Alex, me… I don’t mean to be disrespectful to this group, because I love them all. But as a whole, they have a hard time accepting new people. This group used to be a lot smaller,” she confided.

“Maybe that’s how they want it,” Ryan allowed.

“I’m sure it is,” Belle agreed knowingly. “But that’s not how God wants it.”

“Really?” he scoffed, not able to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Yes, really. God didn’t mean for us to live alone. Man was meant to be companioned. Not just with a wife, but through other stuff, too. I don’t know you that well, but I know that He loves you, and wants you to have a place to come, and different friends than the ones you have.”

“Yeah, I suppose…” he admitted. “So…why aren’t you scared of me?”

Belle sent him a questioning look over the rim of her cup.

“Most of these girls are scared of me, and the guys either wanna beat me down or they want me to just leave.” Ryan explained softly.

“Should I be scared of you?” she challenged, knowing he was pushing her away.

“I was a drunk and a user. I have tattoos all over me. I smoke and I curse. What’s not to be afraid of?”

Belle smiled proudly. “Did you hear what you just said? You were a drunk and a user.” A pause. “I was a liar. I was only authentic with what I felt when it was convenient for me. We’ve all got things. You’re not any worse for it.” She watched his face, and saw he still looked unconvinced.

“Just stick it out with us a little bit,” Belle encouraged. “It won’t be this bad all the time.”

Ryan shrugged, not wanting to let her know he had been persuaded the moment she saw him worthy enough to serve.

--

Before the night was over, though, one of the guys, Rob, had pulled Ryan aside to talk. He dressed simply - just worn blue jeans and a plain grey tee shirt.

Ryan looked down at himself. At his dark jeans, and shirt with the name of a popular band across its front. In that moment, it was glaringly obvious how hard he was trying.

They went outside, with Rob leading the way. If Ryan had the choice he would have stayed indoors, preferring a secluded back hall to a chilly front step.

At least this guy had the courtesy to nod, and introduce himself before starting in. But the words were some that Ryan wished he didn’t have to hear.

“Look…my sister’s scared to death of you, man.” Rob explained, both apology and warning evident on his face.

Ryan stared at him, not breaking eye contact. He listened, knowing he owed the guy at least that much.

“Less than a year back she was beaten by a bastard who happened to have a lot of tattoos…I think it reminds her…” Rob surveyed Ryan’s arms, admiring several of the intricate designs.

Ryan took a step back. “Shit, I’m sorry…” His tone was stricken. “I thought she was freaked out because she knew I drank…” He ran his hands over his bare arms self-consciously, seriously regretting his choice to go sleeveless tonight. His pride had cost him big time.

“No,” Rob said simply.

“I keep a sweatshirt in the car,” Ryan said softly, looking away. “I’ll wear it if I’m around her.”

“Thanks.” Rob was grateful for Ryan’s gentle demeanor, and that he hadn’t been too offended.

Shifting, and studying his worn tennis shoes, Ryan decided to press. “Anything else? I mean, that I could do to make it easier?”

“Keep your distance,” he said plainly.

“What’s your sister’s name?” Ryan asked suddenly.

“Her name’s Elise.”

“I’ll steer clear of her,” he promised.

--

Between Josh’s arrival and now Ryan’s, Rob was feeling old memories of Elise resurface - the ones that he would prefer not to remember. Ryan and Josh, in addition to the phone calls from their mother was enough to drive Rob crazy, he was sure.

Now, when he was driving to work, driving home, pretty much anywhere alone, Rob was accosted by memories of a different kind. A time he really had never looked back on until now, because it was so busy.

For the first time, he remembered what it was like bringing Elise home from the hospital. He remembered how she had panicked the first time he picked her up, going stiff in his arms, as he prepared to carry her up the flight of stairs to his apartment.

The girl who used to pride herself in dressing up at least a little every day, was reduced to rehab clothes. Plain navy blue, or grey sweats and a tee shirt. Her favorite pair of green tennis shoes had been left at their mother’s house, and exchanged for bulky high-top shoes that better supported her weaker foot when she walked. The jewelry she used to wear was nonexistent now, and even the class ring she’d been so proud of was nowhere to be found - misplaced with the packing to leave from the hospital to rehab, or rehab to home, Rob couldn’t be sure. He had told her about it, and even apologized for losing it. She just shook her head, as if it had never mattered. After all, if she never really valued something to begin with, what did it matter if it was lost?

He remembered finally getting to the apartment, and what her first question was…and how much effort it took to make.

“When can I go home?”

Rob had knelt and explained to her again that she was going to stay with him now. He’d watched the lines of confusion appear on her forehead, and bitten back his anger as tears spilled down her cheeks, and she was reduced to silence - mouthing the word “Mom.”

He had looked at her bruised face - the scar on her head covered by her hair, and wondered how on earth she could want to be with the woman who had let this happen to her and did nothing to help. The woman who had abandoned her. The woman who could never really bring herself to be a mother after her first husband died.

But Rob had forced those feelings aside. “You don’t need to worry about Mom. She’s fine. And she’s letting you come and live with me for a while. Trust me. Everything will be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

And he had. Between himself and Kylie and his other friends, they had done a fine job making sure Elise recovered.

There was very little evidence of the injury itself. In fact, the only effects that really showed now were the nightmares, and an occasional headache. Which he had hoped would disappear in the first months. And they might have, had it not been for their mom suddenly deciding to look him up and call his place now that her boyfriend, fiancé, whatever he was, had gotten out of jail, and left her.

Now, she wanted back the life she’d sacrificed. She was lonely and wanted to talk to her daughter, and as usual, her own needs superseded any that Elise might have possibly had.

She hadn’t spoken a word of apology - only lamented about how lonely she had become now that her entire family was gone.