Page 84 of The Man with a Treasure

Entranced by the wet leaves, Scarlett kicked off her shoes and freed her bare toes. She had been so focused on those shoes that she hadn’t taken a moment to notice nature at all. Now, her hands were floating in the air. She was gasping at every drop that touched her skin. “It is the trees’ turn for a shower.”

Scarlett may have sounded challenged to some, but Sal and I stared at her as if witnessing a true messenger from above, reminding us of all we shouldn’t take for granted.

Scarlett’s wonder had me thinking, not for the first time since rescuing Scarlett, of a discussion I once had with Mrs. Rossi…

Finally understanding her meaning, I told Mrs. Rossi, “Innocence is an untouched part of the heart.”

“Now, remember that, my Angel. No matter what has been touched on the outside, there is a whole other part of Scarlett yet to have been discovered… Even by her.”

Watching Scarlett’s heart be touched by the simplest of things after all she had suffered, I knew I was witnessing beauty at its finest. Just how nature intended. Rain dampened Scarlett’s long hair, making her impossibly gorgeous as she opened her mouth to drink in the naturally purified water. She laughed freely every time her tongue tasted more drops.

Again, her soul called to mine.

Scarlett squealed, “Angel! Isn’t it magical?”

Water dripped from my hair and into my mouth. “Magical.” I couldn’t stop staring at her and her wide arms, circling, head leaning back to the sky.

To ask if I was dreaming, I looked to Sal, but no words were needed. I only watched as his arms went slack, his immaculate jacket sliding to the ground as he leaned his head back, spread his arms wide, and opened his mouth.

God was present. I just knew it.

I could almost smell Her in the rain.

Knowing I had sinned—taken lives, even if for the better of mankind—I carried regret for being an executioner. That early evening, being in the rain, I wondered if there truly were angels who carried out balance for our Lord. The bible named a few. Maybe it was true.

Maybe Scarlett was right. I didn’t belong to Hell.

Maybe the Angel of the Night was truly the Angel of… Mercy.

Maybe all the deaths I had caused, and would for Scarlett, had purpose beyond my personal need for revenge. I had brought Mercy to this beautiful, once suffering soul. Maybe I was a weapon for God’s Will.

Spreading my arms wide, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

God, cleanse me… I am yours.

Leaps and bounds… Weeks kept passing, and Scarlett kept taking leaps and bounds. That’s not to say there weren’t still many tears of confusion. The more she learned, the more she realized she didn’t know. Then more questions arose. More frustration rose. That frustration eventually turned into anger.

Sal and I were not doctors, nor counselors. The only experience we had with anything close to Scarlett was Isabella, and that didn’t compare to Scarlett’s situation, because Isabella had been a very educated young woman when taken.

Coming from the hallway that led to my bedroom, I entered the living room just as a closed book went sailing by. Wham! It hit the wall. Scarlett was irritably pacing. “There are so many words I don’t know!”

Sal was so patient. “Scarlett, it takes time. You’re doing so well.”

She roared, “My name is not Scarlett! It is Scar!”

Whenever her temper flared because she was frustrated with herself, Scarlett reverted to the name her fathers had given her. It took some time before we figured out why.

She glared at me. “I want the truth.”

I promised, “Sal speaks it.”

As frustrated as she was, I was still grateful she was fighting. Every day, she fought to learn and deal with all her shortcomings that she wished didn’t exist.

“How far behind am I?”

Sal and I may have been avoiding certain subjects, but we always tried to be honest. Especially when she was demanding the cold hard truth. Like right now. Exhale… “Scarlett, you may have the education of a child, but you have the heart of a woman.”

Sal would oblige and call Scarlett, Scar, but I refused.