The moment I enter Cayden’s home, I know shit is about to get real.
Usually, Cayden is so guarded, and although he’s still keeping his cards close to his chest, his confliction over what he’s about to reveal is almost palpable. He leads me straight up the stairs and to his bedroom. When he closes the door, sealing us in, I know there is no turning back.
Taking a moment, I remember the safety this room brought me and hope that once this is done, it’ll do so once again. Peering up at the abstract charcoal sketch above his bed, I now see that it’s a naked woman. To the naked eye, one could guess it to be a million other images. But somehow, I know exactly what it’s supposed to be. I’m transfixed by the linework, and the simplicity of being stripped bare this way brings tears to my eyes. But I’m not here to admire furnishings.
I stand at the foot of the bed, watching as Cayden paces, running both hands through his snarled hair. Whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to be easy—for either of us. “When I told you, you didn’t belong here, I was telling you the truth. I met you when I was”—he takes a deep breath as he stops pacing and meets my eyes—“nine years old. You were…”
“Eight,” I reply, almost lost for words.
He nods slowly, almost regrettably. “Yes. I remember the first time I saw you. Everyone knew who the Lanes were, but no one actually saw them because we weren’t supposed to be in that part of town. That is, until one night, I broke that rule.”
I inhale sharply, unbelieving his memories are mine.
“I needed to see what was so special about the other side of the lake. Rumors were rife, and kids who claimed they’d been to ‘the other side’ said it was like some magical fairy tale where the streets were flourishing with everything we lacked. I rowed my boat over in the dead of night and decided to explore the white house. The house stood out from any others around it. The house which was forever my beacon in the cruelest of times.”
I pale, not understanding what that means, but I don’t dare breathe.
“You had the most fruitful lemon tree growing in your front yard. And I began to believe the rumors. I had never seen anything like it back home because anything not bolted down was stolen. I don’t know why I did it. I was only there to appease my curiosity, but it suddenly wasn’t enough. I began to understand what Adam felt in the Garden of Eden. Those lemons tempted me in ways I never imagined, and before I knew it, I was jumping over your white picket fence, intent on picking the perfect lemon.
“I only wanted one, but then I thought of Lacey back home. If I picked a few, I could sell them and make enough money to feed us both for a few days. I couldn’t remember when we had our last decent meal. So with that as my incentive, I took off my tattered T-shirt and used it as a knapsack as I picked your tree almost bare.
“I picked more than I could carry, so I decided to come back the next night to gather the rest. When I threw my loot over my shoulder, I felt like a true warrior as I’d come to the other side and survived. But I soon swallowed my bravery because when I saw you, I knew I’d never be the same again.”
Cayden’s tale is sad beyond words, but I suddenly understood why he looked at me like I was an anomaly when I opted for the simplicity of a lemon to garnish my pancakes.
“You had crept through the yard, catching me unaware. I didn’t know if you were real or not because you radiated such life. With your fiery red hair and your dimpled smile, I was smitten from the very beginning. But I suddenly believed the rumors as true. I believed that I really was in a fairy tale because you were dressed as…”
“As what?” I whisper, holding my breath.
“As Snow White,” he reveals while I blink once, processing what he just said. “I remember that night like it happened yesterday, but the one thing clearer than any other is the red…ribbon that was threaded through your hair.”
I slump onto the end of the bed, unsure if my unsteady legs would hold me up a second more.
“You stood still watching me, unafraid. While me, I was never more frightened in my life. I didn’t know what you’d do. You had caught me red-handed. If my dad found out what I did…” Cayden’s father sounds like a vile man, so he doesn’t need to go into detail. I know he’d be skinned alive.
“So I did the only thing I could. I offered you a lemon. A sign of peace. But what you did next, it showed me that you were different. Regardless of our circumstances, you were just like me. You were clutching onto a toy mouse, which looked well loved, but when I offered you the lemon, in return, you offered me your mouse.”
“Ellie’s mouse?” I whisper, tears springing to life. They fall when Cayden nods.
“I accepted, as did you, and I thought it was over, but that was just the beginning. I never ran as fast as I did that day, desperate to get home, a place I loathed to be. But you stirred something in me with your innocence, and I was done for from that night forward.
“Two days passed, and the toy mouse was a reminder that you weren’t a dream. That I had really encountered an angel with vibrant red hair. As Lacey and I devoured our mac and cheese, thanks to the money I made from selling your lemons, I wondered if maybe I should go back. I reasoned with myself that it had to do with the money, but deep down, I knew it was because of you.
“When Lacey was asleep, I slipped out of the house, excited by the prospect of seeing you again. But what I never anticipated was that you would feel the same way too. A flutter of red, waving me over in the still of the night, caught my eye because on our beloved swing—the only thing that provided our woeful neighborhood with any joy—was your red ribbon.
“You didn’t know who I was, but I knew who you were. I knew this red ribbon was the only way you could communicate with a world you had no knowledge of. I ran toward the oak tree, the very same one that drew you here not only weeks ago but a lifetime ago as well. Beneath the swing was a bagful of lemons, the very same ones I was going to return for.”
Oh God, my heart, it hurts. To know my past isn’t filled with only atrocities has me hoping that there’s hope for me yet.
“Another bag sat beside it, and inside was a bundled-up T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Both were brand new with the tags still attached. I had no idea how you obtained these, but the pricey garments would feed Lacey and me for weeks.
“This happened for the next two weeks. You left me gifts, alerting me to them by the red ribbon you left. If not clothes, you left food. Small offerings to show me you cared. One night, I decided to return the favor. I didn’t have much to give, but I had bought Lacey a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars. She was and still is such a dreamer, so I wanted to give her a forever star-filled sky she could gaze into, wishing that all her dreams came true.
“I left a single star on the swing, excited that I was able to give you back something in return. As I went to collect my latest loot of a carrot cake and some cookies, I sensed I wasn’t alone. I was filled with a feeling I hadn’t felt too often. Hope. You emerged wearing your Snow White costume, but instead of hair as black as ebony, your red hair set my world on fire. So from that day forward, you were my Snow, placating the anger burning within.”