Ean’s Rare Gift – Chapter 14

Karina

The storm slows down in the morning, and I wake up feeling disoriented, sore, and bruised all over. My eyes flutter open, and I spot a beam of orange light radiating through the gaps in the ceiling. Sunlight bounces off the worn, jagged pieces of shattered tiles painting the room a warm, calming radiance.

“Karina?” Ean asks, looking down at me. “You all right? You were mumbling in your sleep.”

“Fine. Tired. Sore.” I clear my croaky throat. “I think my ass is still asleep.”

This brings a smile to his face.

“Maybe we should stand up.”

Standing up hurts even more. Taking a breath fills my entire chest with shooting, stabbing pain. “Ow. Shit.” I lift my shirt and try to peer over my shoulder. Ean’s face says it all, though.

“Wow. That’s some bruise.” He reaches out to touch it, but I jerk away. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t swollen or hot.” I trust him, so I qualm my instincts and let him check it. His touch is soft. “A little swollen, but not hot. You should be okay with rest. Come on.” I wonder how my chin is doing. He takes my hand in his. “Let’s get going.”

We step out into a landscape full of destruction, with fallen tree branches everywhere and lakes’ worth of water collected in the streets. Mudslides are outlined on the terrain, their tracks leading to our door. Divine intervention was looking after us while we took shelter inside.

The smell of wet earth and mud permeate the air. The sun is peeking through the clouds, giving us hope in this bleak situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“Where to first?” Ean asks, looking off down the street. Someone else is standing in the street just staring at the mudslide that took out the far corner building.

I know he must be anxious about Ume, and we should go there first, but I’m also worried about my café.

“What should we do?” Gita asks, hobbling to the door.

Ean glances at me. I don’t know what to say. We’re not emergency workers or doctors. I touch his arm before reaching down to hold his hand.

“We have to check on our families, but the emergency routes start six blocks that way.” I point off in the opposite direction of the landslide. “I suggest all three of you go that way until you run into someone from emergency services. They’ll take you to the hospital.”

Gita thinks for a moment, and I brace for her to argue with us. She sighs and nods.

“That’s probably for the best.”

Ean looks around and spots a giant branch in the street. He picks it up, breaks off one end, and hands it to Gita. “Use this as a cane until you find help.”

She steadies it under her hand. “It’ll work. Thanks.”

Calling in to the two men inside, they get up, thank us, and all head off together.

Once they’re out of earshot, I whisper to Ean, “I feel bad letting them go on their own.”

He squeezes my hand. “We have our own work to do.”

“Let’s go to your apartment first.”

“We should go to the café,” he insists, but I shake my head.

“Ume can’t fend for herself inside your apartment. She may need help.”

As we make our way through the streets, we’re better able to survey the damage from the storm. I’m amazed at what nature did overnight. Everywhere we look, there’s evidence of its force — roofs ripped off buildings, debris scattered all over the place, trees toppled over and blocking roads. We encounter several other people who are also assessing the aftermath of this violent typhoon — some clearing rubble away from blocked entryways while others search for missing family members or pets.

We make it to Ean’s apartment building quickly enough, though the damage is already clear — part of the roof is missing, windows have been broken, and mud and debris cover the surrounding ground.

Taking a deep breath, we enter and peek into the office space below. It’s filled with muddy water. Ean’s visibly disappointed, his eyes downcast and mouth turned in a grim frown. He sighs, looking around at the ruin that had once been his office space.

“What a mess. I just got this place.”

My heart sinks, remembering how long he waited until the building became available.

We take the stairs two at a time to check on Ume as we silently mourn his workspace loss. I can tell that Ean is in shock over what a matter of hours can do to destroy something he worked so hard to build. His shoulders are set, and his face is grim as we make our way up.

Stay positive, Karina.

Ume may be safe in his apartment. Please, please, be safe.

When we reach the apartment door, everything is silent.

“Ume!” Ean calls out, shouldering the door open. Without power, the door is in lock mode and needs a heavy hand. “We’re coming!”

Inside, though, the apartment is disconcertingly quiet. The wind howls through an open hole in the ceiling, and rainwater covers the floor.

“Where is she?” Ean’s voice rises, and my heart skips a beat. All the blood in my head travels to my feet. What if she’s gone, and he’s lost another pair? What would that do to him? I know I’d be devastated. I might even lose all hope or reason, just as I had when Matt died.

Am I about to lose Ean too?

“She has to be here,” I say, charging into the room and past him to the kitchen. The counters are empty, and the sink has the same dishes we left in it last night. Ean’s glass vase of flowers is in a thousand tiny pieces, the blooms scattered about the floor.

I rush back into the living room, but there’s no sign of her. I try to think logically, looking for her from room to room. Ean is a statue at the door, in total shock. His eyes search the surrounding area, but he stays completely still. Panic swells at the back of my brain.

Ume, where are you?

I look up at the cloud deck racing by through the roof’s hole. “She went out through that, maybe? I don’t know.” I throw my hands up, and they fall back to my side. Tears well up in my eyes as I remember the moment Ean heard her voice, the special, astronomically beautiful moment when he realized she was meant for him. This can’t be happening.

His eyes meet mine, and my heart breaks for him.

“Do you think she’s gone?” he asks, and the tears I was holding back overflow.

“No.” I rush to him and grasp his shoulders. “She’s a strong bird. Just think of all the years of storms she’s been through. She’s probably just a little lost. She’ll make her way back.”

I bring my hands to his face and try to make eye contact with him, but he’s staring past me into the distance.

“Ean?” His eyes meet mine, and the pain there is enough to worry me. But no, I have to hold on. There’s still too much to do. “There are other places she can be. We need to get moving.”

He sighs and shakes his head. I relax a micron. “You’re right. She’s probably just making her way back here.” His eyes leave mine and focus on the room. “I hadn’t expected this much devastation in such a short time.”

Surprisingly, the damage isn’t as bad as I’d feared. Though there’s water all over the floor from the hole in the roof, only a few items have been upturned or ruined by water seepage, and the rug is beyond repair. The rest can be cleaned. But my stomach clenches with anxiety. I can only imagine what my place and the café are like. I’m farther downhill from him, and water travels down, not up.

We briefly tour the rest of the apartment, and everything is okay. The bathroom and bedroom are untouched, even by water. The doors on both kept it out. My bag of clothes I brought with me is still on the couch.

“I’m going to get changed. Do you want to?” I ask, grabbing my bag.

“Yeah.”

I follow him into his room and set my bag on his bed while he rummages through his drawers. Staring at the bed, I remember the sex we had right there not even a day ago. Every emotion feels so far removed from that moment. Almost like it didn’t really happen.

“Would you like some privacy?” Ean stands in the doorway with his clothes in his hand, and a small smile tugs at my lips.

“Because I haven’t seen you naked?”

“Because I want to see you naked again,” he replies, his smile matching mine.

Thank God he can still smile and joke.

“I’m not shy.” I pull my damp shirt over my head, unhook my bra, and drop it on the bed with a sigh. Ahhhh. The clothes were making me so uncomfortable. I’m still dirty and gross, but at least the muddy shirt and bra aren’t clinging to my skin anymore.

Ean’s smile doesn’t waver as he places his hand on my bare waist and pulls me to him. His lips gently touch my forehead, and he sighs. I clutch his arm and close my eyes. I’d give anything for this moment to be different, happy, playful.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper.

He nods and steps away, his eyes traveling down my body once before undressing.

I watch because why wouldn’t I? I love the play of his muscles under his skin. I swear he has less body fat than a professional marathoner, so obviously, I’m going to feed him copious amounts of pasta, butter, and sweets. Mmmm. It’s the way of my people.

He chuckles as he drops his pants. “Stop staring, Karina.”

“Oh, I’m going to stare, forever and ever, amen.”

With a smirk, he turns and presents his ass and his tattoos as he pulls up fresh underwear. I think I love him.

“It’s your favorite,” he says, looking over his shoulder.

“You’ve got that right.” I sigh as I grab a new bra and slip it on. “We should probably stop joking around, or I’ll do something inappropriate for the time and place.”

He steps into new jeans and slides them up his legs. “You and me both.” Grabbing his shirt, he jerks his head at the bathroom. “I’m going to wash my hands and face. See you out in the living room.”

I take a deep breath when he’s gone and relax a little. He’s going to be okay. I was worried there for a moment.

When I join him in the living room, dressed and ready to go, he’s staring at the water on the floor.

“We should go to your place,” he says, slipping his mini-tab into his back pocket. “There’s nothing more I can do here until they restore power.”

We make our way out of his apartment to the street. Down the block and to my street, my heart sinks as I take in the surrounding destruction. It looks like something out of a wartime Earth movie. The streets are still backed up with muddy water snaking through them. In the distance, ambulances drive by, sirens blaring in search of survivors.

When we reach my building, I’m relieved it’s still standing after the storm. The storm shutters have been raised, which means someone is inside. I pull open the door to a solid four centimeters of dirty water.

“Charlie?” I call out. “Charlie!”

The door to the kitchen opens, and Lydia and Charlie emerge, their faces bright with relief.

“Oh, thank God!” Lydia cries, pressing a hand to her chest. “We’ve been so worried.”

She wades through the water in her rubber boots and wraps her arms around me. I wince at the pain in my back, and she pulls away. “Are you injured?”

I nod. “A little. I got whacked on the back trying to pull someone out of danger.”

She gently touches my chin. “This looks bad, too.”

“Yeah.” I turn to Ean. “Not the best of introductions, but this is Ean Kimura. Ean, this is my sister-in-law, Lydia.” They shake hands, and Lydia’s eyes twinkle with mirth. Sigh. I’m going to get an earful from her soon enough.

“We were worried when you weren’t here, and there were strangers in your apartment,” Charlie says, glancing at Ean. “Hi, Ean” He raises a tentative hand.

“Hey, Charlie.” Ean is subdued but better than before.

“You’ve been in my apartment?” I ask Lydia, catching her attention again.

“Yeah. It’s the Miyagis up there?” I nod. “They rode out the storm just fine. No damage to your place except for this.” She waves at the flood in Café Mela.

“What about you guys?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing much. A few roof tiles were ripped off the building. Some flooding in the streets.”

“That’s a relief,” Ean says, and Lydia’s face falls again.

Uh oh.

“You better come see the neighborhood from your window,” she says.

Up the stairs, past my houseguests, and into my bedroom, my stomach is clenched, just waiting to see what’s happened.

Inside, everything looks okay — nothing is broken or knocked down — but when we look outside from my bedroom window, much of the neighborhood has been damaged beyond repair. Buildings have collapsed or partially collapsed into piles of rubble, and power lines have been ripped apart and tossed aside like strings of spaghetti. I press my hands to my lips and moan. Ean’s sharp intake of breath pierces my heart.

“It’s going to take us years to recover from this,” he whispers. “We better get out there and help.”