Blind Love( Completed, Kings Series, Book 4)

Encounter

Alessandro? Shit! What was going on?

Great, just great...I didn't feel safe in the house anymore. First the weird dream, then this.

I was a home person. It was my sanctuary. It was where I breathed. It was where I relaxed. It was the only reason why I was at peace with the world. I didn't have to interact with many people. I didn't have to be exposed to their stares. I didn't have to remind anyone that just because I was blind, it didn't mean I was naive, vulnerable. In here, I could be myself.

And, something or someone had just ruined it all.

I was expecting a whirlwind of dust to sweep me away any minute. I couldn't breathe. My hands sweated. I needed to get out. But where would I go in the middle of the night? I had no family, no relatives. I had no friends. I'd lost my parents when I was eleven years old.

My parents had been single kids. Grandparents had long been dead. There was no aunt, or uncle to take care of me. I'd been scared of being snatched by the Social Services. Instead, I had started living with my best friend, Jenny. Loved the smell of freshly baked walnut cookies in that kitchen. Mrs. Robinson and her cookies. No woman could do better in my eyes. She made that kitchen a bakery the moment she learned of my weakness for sweets. She would greet me at the door with a napkin in her hand. "Here, baby. Open your mouth. It's warm from the oven." It was always warm from the oven. I soon realized that the kitchen was responsible for the heavy monthly electricity bill. Gained 10 pounds that year. It was a miracle I didn't gain more.

Then there was Mr. Robinson. The gentle soul who always squeezed money in my back pocket as we left for school. Didn't care that I had loads of it.

"Buy yourself some ice cream," he'd say.

"Mr. Robinson, I'm Ok. I have money." I would feel embarrassed. Would always try to give it back.

"Nonsense, every teenager needs money. Right, Jenny?"

"Of course, take it." Jenny would laugh.

Protesting was futile. I knew it. I still did it. I felt bad for being their burden. But, they made me feel I was not.

"Just for today," he'd insist. As if this was it. A mistake had been done. And would not be repeated. As if it was too much of a hassle for him to take the money back.

I would give in. How could I not?

Yet, he would do it the next day. And the next.

In the end, I began to expect it. Wait for it. Cherish it.

And there was Jenny's grandfather who always sang--merry and out of tune-- every moment of the day. Whistled the Good, the Bad and the Ugly like it was his salvation. He loved western movies, and though he couldn't answer Mrs.Robinson's question, "Dad, what did you have for lunch today?" he sure could recall the lyrics of hundreds of cowboy songs without much ado. He was the one who suggested to change their traditional Sunday western movie nights into a book reading event. For me. He did it for me.

In the end, we did read the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. I've lost count of the times we read it.

Loved that family. The Robinsons made me feel special.

It all came crashing two years later. I lost Jenny when I was sixteen. Lost her to pneumonia. One that doctors failed to detect in time. I felt the life drain from Jenny as she lived through her last days. I lived through it all, I was there when Mrs.Robinson stopped baking, Mr.Robinson stopped caring, Grandpa stopped singing.