Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu by Jennifer Carole Lewis Read Free Book Online

Michael. Ignore everyone else. Listen to my voice. It’s Michael.” He kept his voice low and calm, practically speaking into her ear as her fingers dug painfully into his skin. He began to sing softly, a silly little song to the tune of Old MacDonald .
    “ Bernie always likes this song, E-I-E-I-O.
    But Michael always sings it wrong, E-I-E-I-O.
    With a quack-moo here and a baa-neigh there.
    Got it wrong, always wrong, every time I sing the song.
    Bernie always likes this song, E-I-E-I-O. ”
     
    He kept singing, making up the verses as he went along. As Bernie calmed, Martha’s anxiety began pricking at him from the doorway. The shadows’ bellowing faded as if on a radio being set to a different station. Slowly he built up the protections in his mind again, leaving just enough room for Bernie’s emotions to seep through. Eventually, he felt it was safe to let her go.
    She blinked up at him, her eyes and cheeks swollen from crying, but she didn’t launch into a new assault. Michael wearily counted it as a success, smoothing the sweat-lank hair away from her face.
    “Thank God,” her mother sighed. “Bernie, honey, are you okay?”
    “Tired. And my hands hurt.” Bernie held out her fingers—the nails were split past the quick and were bleeding sluggishly.
    “I’ll get the bandages, sweetie.”
    Michael watched Bernie carefully as her mother scurried away. This could be the end of the manic episode or it could only be a temporary lull. He wished he knew how to help her more. After five years, sometimes he felt as if he were fighting a losing battle. Martha had tried medication, intensive therapy, even hospitalization, but nothing seemed to help for long.
    “I got lost,” the little girl announced.
    “I know. But you found your way back.”
    “Because you helped. But you won’t be able to help in the new place.”
    “What new place?” Suspicion threatened to sharpen his voice, but Michael forced himself to maintain a pose of nonchalance. He didn’t want to risk setting her off again.
    “The new place I’m going to live. Chuck says it’s scary and that they’ll hurt me.” Tears glistened in Bernie’s hazel eyes.
    Chuck was one of Bernie’s hallucinations: an eight-year-old boy who prompted her to do horrific things like lighting furniture on fire or hitting other children. Michael forced himself to release the breath he was holding. Chuck was rarely a good sign. “Chuck doesn’t always tell you the truth.”
    “He’s mad a lot. His mom and dad forgot him and left him behind. Just like my mom will forget me.”
    “Your mom would never forget you, Bernie-pie.”
    “You won’t forget me, will you? You have to help me. Promise me.” Bernie’s tiny hands wrapped around his, crushing his fingers with the strength of her grip. Terror and desperation roared through the physical contact. Whatever was going on, it was more than a passing childish fear.
    He held her gaze, hoping she could see his conviction and determination. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can.”

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Michael’s hands clenched into fists as Bernie relaxed. Her mother returned with wet cloths, antibiotic ointment, and bandages, preventing him from finding out more. Bernie was silent while they cleaned and bandaged her hands. Together, Michael and Martha inflated an old camping mattress and set it up in the living room with blankets and pillows.
    Bernie crawled into the nest, clearly exhausted. “Please find it for me,” she whispered, clutching Michael’s hand. The fractured image of a brochure swam into his mind, jumping around too much to see clearly.
    “I will,” he promised, tucking her in.
    Bernie closed her eyes and was asleep before they left the room.
    The clock showed five minutes to ten—barely halfway through the morning and Michael was weary enough to collapse, himself. Luckily Bernie had been his first client scheduled for the morning, and his afternoon client was away on holiday.