Archer's Voice(100)

I scuttled backwards, noticing immediately that the man who had fired at me was lying still on the floor, and that Archer wasn't moving either. I let out a strangled sob and lurched forward, reaching for him. He was lying on his side, his face turned toward the floor. I pulled him backwards so that he was on his back and let out an anguished cry when I saw the front of his shirt already soaked in blood.

Oh no, Oh God, no, no, no. Please, no. Please no.

My own sobs mixed with all the noise starting up around me now, footsteps, what I thought were Maggie's soft cries, Norm's gravely voice, and chairs scraping against the floor. But my eyes didn't move from Archer.

I pulled him into me, rocking him, smoothing my hands down his face as I whispered to him over and over, "Hang on, baby, hang on. I love you, Archer, I love you, don't you dare leave me now."

"Bree," I heard Travis say quietly, as the sound of an ambulance grew louder outside the diner. "Bree, let me help you up."

"No!" I screamed, pulling Archer closer to me. "No! No!" I rocked him some more, putting my face right next to his, feeling his rough cheek against my own, and whispering to him again, "Don't you leave me, I need you, don't you leave me."

But Archer didn't hear me, he was already gone.





CHAPTER 34


You brought the silence, The most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, Because it was where you were.

And now you've taken it away.

And all the noises, all the sounds in the world, Aren't loud enough to pierce my broken heart.

I look up at the stars, endless and forever, and whisper, Come back to me, Come back to me, Come back to me.





CHAPTER 35


Bree



The whole town gathered to honor Archer Hale.

The people of Pelion, young and old, came together to show their support for the man who had been a quiet part of their community since the day he was born. His silent wound, his unnoticed isolation, now understood by all, and finally, his gentle heart and act of bravery, inspired shops to close, and those who rarely came out of their homes to join with the other citizens in the largest show of support the town had ever seen. A small, silent star, always on the outskirts, hardly noticed before, had shone so brightly, that the whole town stopped to gaze upon his brilliance, to finally open their eyes enough to welcome him as part of their small constellation.

I heard again and again that my and Archer's story made people want to be better, to reach out to those no one else saw, to be friends to the friendless, to look at others more closely, and recognize pain when they came across it, and then to do something about it if they were able.

I walked in that cold day in February, Maggie on one arm and Norm on the other and we took our seats as people smiled kindly at me and nodded their heads. I smiled and nodded back. This was my community now too. I was part of the constellation as well.

Outside, the rain had just begun to fall and I heard a boom of thunder in the distance. I wasn't afraid though. When a thunderstorm comes, I had told him, I'll think of you, not anything other than you. And I always did. Always.

Archer had gone away once before–three long months where I missed him desperately every single day. This time he was gone from me for three solid weeks before he came back. He was in a deep coma and the doctors couldn't tell me when they thought he might wake up, or if he would wake up at all. But I waited. I would always wait. And I prayed and I whispered to the heavens every night, come back to me, come back to me, come back to me.

On another rainy day at the end of January, just as the thunder boomed and the lightening flashed in his hospital room, he opened his eyes and looked at me. My own heart thundered in my ears, louder than that outside the window, and I'd jumped up from the chair I'd been sitting in and rushed to his side, choking out, "You're back." I picked up his hands and brought them to my lips, kissing them again and again, my tears falling onto his fingers, his knuckles, those beautiful hands that held a whole language, that allowed me to know what was in his mind and his heart. I loved those hands. I loved him. My tears continued to fall.

He'd looked at me for several minutes before he brought his hands away from mine and signed slowly, his fingers moving stiffly, I'm back for you.

I laughed out a strangled cry, and put my head down on his chest and held on to him tightly as the nurses rushed into the room.

And now, the whole town waited as Archer walked toward the podium, still stiff from the bandages surrounding his torso and the surgeries he'd had to repair his internal organs.

I looked around once more. Travis stood in the back of the room, still in uniform from his shift. I caught his eye and nodded at him. He nodded back, and smiled slightly. I still wasn't sure how I felt about Travis exactly, but he deserved my respect for his own act of heroism that awful day.

It had recently come to light that the man who had found me that day, Jeffrey Perkins, had gotten hooked on heroin and had been cut off from his family. He'd shown up at our family deli that night in need of money and a fix.

His dealer had given over his name as part of a plea deal to save his own skin. Apparently Jeffrey had shown up that night splattered in blood and babbling about shooting a guy in a deli.

He had started to get his act together and his father had begun to accept him back into the family fold when I had identified him in that photo lineup.