Paralyzed In Happiness

Part The Thirteenth

Summary
The End

Part The Thirteenth

February

Sera

Sera and Chloe were under a tree. The redhead was sitting on the ground, with her back against it, and Sera was lying on her back, with her head in Chloe's lap. There wasn't any snow on the ground, but it was still cold, so both were bundled in their winter gear.

Zoie

Zoie had been having a hell of a time finding a very specific color of paint, and she had finally found a bottle of it in an obscure store called The Witch's Walk, one hundred miles away north of Carron, in Akersville, Virginia.

When she parked the XC90, she had to park five minutes away from the Witch's Walk, because the parking lot was completely full. On her walk to the store, Zoie passed a park, labeled as the Sac-Thu Memorial Park, where she saw an unbelievable sight: Sera was there, laying in the lap of a beautiful redhead, with light eyes, and a quick smile. The two were laughing loudly, and seemingly enjoying each other’s company.

After several moments, Zoie realized she was just standing there, and she tried to hide her face, but it was too late, and just as she was pulling the collar of her jacket over her face, Zoie felt a familiar pair of strong arms wrap around her and lift her into the air.

"ZOIE! You're here! I can't believe it!" Sera's voice shouted into the February air

Zoie couldn't speak, she couldn't think, she just fell into Sera's body and cried there, tears of joy and sadness. Eventually the artist fell asleep in her girlfriend's arms.

When she woke up, Zoie knew she was in Sera's bed, it smelled like her, like strawberries and gunpowder. The artist sat up and rubbed her eyes. She realized that she was wearing pajama bottoms that were way too long for her, and only her bra, so she looked around for the shirt she had been wearing, which she found on the bedside table.

Zoie slipped on her shirt and got out of Sera's bed. She couldn't remember a lot of yesterday, just leaving home for Akersville, and seeing Sera. The artist shook her head and trudged to the bedroom door but stopped when she heard raised voices.

"Hey! I didn't fucking invite her here, but I'm sure as hell glad she is! She's the only ounce of happiness I've got left, Dickhole." Sera said

"Sera, you just got dropped into the most goddamn danger you've ever seen. What if Cain followed her?" said the voice of officer Grant Harris.

"Cain doesn't know she exists. It's been seven months, Harris. He's gone. And I'm going back to Carron."

Zoie slowly and cautiously pushed open the bedroom door, but then shut it again, shaking her head. She changed into her clothes quickly and climbed out the window.

Apparently, it had snowed the night before, because when Zoie got outside, she was ankle deep in the cold white powder. A chill traveled up her body, but that was nothing compared to what would happen to Sera if her father found her.

Two hours later

Zoie walked into a bar. The parking lot was empty, save a dark blue GMC Jimmy, circa 1993. Inside the bar it was warm, and empty. The artist sat down on a bar stool and lay her head down on the bar top. After a few minutes, a squat man walked out of a door behind the bar, looking shocked to see her.

"Evenin'" he said

"Hi. Um, you must be the bartender." Zoie replied

"And owner of this fine establishment. May I see your identification Ma'am?"

Zoie hesitated for a moment, but finally placed her wallet on the bar, and showed him her driver's license. The bartender took a quick glance at it, and nodded, seemingly ignoring the January 2001 birthdate.

"What would you like, ma'am?" He asked

"Just a beer. Whatever's good." Zoie replied

"Alrighty, gimme just a minute."

And with that, the bartender stepped back through the door he'd exited. About five minutes later, much longer than it would take to get a beer, he stepped back out and placed a glass on the bar, filled with amber liquid and a white, frothy head.

Zoie sat there in silence for half an hour. She didn't touch the beer, she just sat there with her head down. Just then, the door to the bar slammed open. Zoie looked up from her place at the bar to see Kyra Travers standing in the doorway.

"Kyra! -" Zoie started, but Kyra interrupted her

"Shut up, Zoie. Chuck! Did she drink anything?"

"Sure didn't Lieutenant. Just sat there, an' moped." Chuck, the bartender shouted from the back

"Zoie, get in the car."

"Kyra, I-" Zoie began, but again Kyra stopped her

"I said, Get. In. The. Car."

Zoie walked slowly to the door and looked outside to see her XC90 parked on the street, still running, she also saw a figure in the passenger seat, tapping its fingers on the dash.

Zoie turned back towards her cousin immediately, saying "I can't get in that car."

"Zoie, I promise, Sera is safe. Her father is dealt with." Kyra said.

Richmond, 30 miles away.

Cain Carr sat against a brick wall in an alleyway, a dumpster on his left and a rat on his right. A second passes, and then two, and then there's a hole in Cain Carr's forehead.

Five minutes pass before Sergeant Corrine Withers arrived on the scene, rifle slung across her back. She pressed a button on the headset in her ear and dialed her Lieutenant's phone number.

"He's dead." She says

"Good, and the money?" Kyra asks

"You were right. Nineteen million, four hundred and fifty-three thousand, nine hundred and sixty-five dollars in the briefcase."

Six years later.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the old Carr House, the Pitcher Family was silent.

Following in the footsteps of her former therapist and now stepmother, Sera Pitcher had finished a six-year program to earn her master's degree in psychology. Zoie Pitcher had graduated two years earlier with a BA in art history and was hosting an installation of her sculptures in two weeks, as for her masterpiece: it now hangs in the Pitcher Family Home, it is a beautiful portrait of a pale Goddess, mourning the loss of her dark-haired lover, with a background of nebulae, and unknown constellations.

Raising her voice, Sera said "can we do this now?"

Zoie didn't reply with words, she simply struck a matchbox, and tossed it at the Carr house. The curtains went up first, and then the wooden floors. The last of the house left standing was the crooked brick chimney, and two load-bearing beams.