ZEKE by Kelly Gendron

she says, staring straight ahead, “and that’s when I saw it. Pain, so much pain, and it felt like it reached right out for me. So,” she clears her throat, “I asked him if he was there for the job. I mean, I wasn’t looking for anyone to do any yard work, but I figured the kid needed something. He was looking for something. But when I again offered him the job, he just stared at me for a long time. I was about to go back into the house when he finally found his voice and answered that he’d take the job. For the first year, he showed up every Saturday. He rarely spoke to me, but he did a good job. Then I brought him to this room and asked him to help me move some books around, and that’s when he opened up a little. Zeke loves to read. He’d spend hours in here. Sometimes, he’d fall asleep on this very sofa,” she touches the armrest, “and one day, I heard him crying out.”
    “A nightmare,” I say, trying to understand their relationship. I know he lost his parents and his grams. Does Addy fill that void? Could that be it?
    “Yes. Every time he’s been here and has fallen asleep, he’s been awakened by it. I don’t think he ever gets a good night’s sleep. I fear the same dreadful dream revisits him every night.”
    “What were you saying to him? Ya know, the thing about the walls are strong?”
    “Oh,” she places her small, wrinkled hand over mine, “ I have come back again to where I belong; not an enchanted place, but the walls are strong . It’s a quote by a poet, Dorothy H. Rath. I read it one day and thought it meant to come back from a dream. Sometimes, they feel so real. So I say it to remind Zeke that he’s safe and back where he belongs.”
    “What’s the nightmare about, do you know?”
    “No, my dear,” she pats my hand, “he won’t talk about it.”
    “That’s horrible.” I blink away a developing tear. Zeke struggles every night with the same nightmare. To think something is capable of frightening the strong and resilient Zeke Declan. Oh, my God! Rule number three, no sleepovers—could this be the reason why he won’t sleep with anyone?
    What happened to him? What made him afraid of love? I have so many questions, ones I fear he’ll never answer. If I’m going to break him, if I’m ever going to get through to him, I’m going to need to find out what keeps Zeke Declan awake at night.
    “I’m going to go to bed.” Addy leans forward and grips her walker.
    “Do you mind if I stay in here for a bit longer?”
    Addy leans back against the cushion, releasing the walker. “You like to read?”
    “Yes. Actually, I’m an English teacher. I love books.”
    “There,” she points to a bookshelf, “second shelf from the top.”
    I get up, walk over, and point. “Here?”
    “Yes, the third book from the left,” she says.
    I slide my fingers along the bindings, pull out the book, and look at it. “Famous quotes from the Twentieth Century.”
    “That’s Zeke’s favorite.” She smiles. “It amazes him how from one quote he can really get the sense of what a person was like. Whenever he finds one that inspires him, he’ll read every book he can get his hands on about them. His favorite quote is by Oscar Wilde, ‘ I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.’”
    “Really?” I look down at her in awe.
    “Yes. I think that he likes to read all those quotes because he can see life through others’ eyes and relate to them. I know he’s had a hard life, but we’ve never talked about it. He’s never been ready to face what he fears.” She grabs the walker and pulls herself up from the sofa. “Who knows, maybe someday he will be.” She winks. “Well, I’m off to bed.”
    “Oh, here.” I put the book back on the shelf. “Let me walk with you.” I come up beside her.
    “I’m not as fragile as I look.” She smiles at me.
    “I know.” I smile back at her, and we head toward her room. I wait