Chapter 4

The first time I saw Carlisle, I was waiting in the small conference room, looking at the various posters on the wall. One in particular caught my eye. A poem entitled Anonymous to My Precious Child, about how I was not alone in my pain; about how I was loved more than I could ever fathom; how I would never do anything to change that fact.

I scoffed.

Carlisle, in all his smooth, well-dressed glory, had been standing in the doorway watching. "Not into poetry?" He asked.

"Not when it's thinly veiled Christian propaganda."

He moved up beside me to look at the poster with me. "How so?"

"You don't have to be a genius to figure out that anonymous is supposed to be God."

"Do you believe in Him?"

"No."

"I find it interesting that you read into it that way then."

"Don't get too excited there doc." I shrugged and tapped the bottom right hand corner of the poster.

He leant in reading the publisher's name in tiny print. Bible Society Ltd.

"Ah." He straightened, giving me a wry smile. "Carlisle." He said, holding out his hand.

Carlisle's silver-blonde hair showed no grey and his smooth face no wrinkles, but he had the air of someone who was much older than they looked. I never asked his age though.

I shook it. "Edward."

"So Edward," he began, sitting down and indicating to the threadbare armchair across from him. "I take it you're not a fan of Christianity."

"My encounters have not been pleasant, no."

"Since you're here to talk, do you mind telling me about your most recent encounter?"

"Sure." It couldn't hurt. "I was in detox--"

"This is immediately after the accident?" Carlisle interrupted, scribbling a few notes on his leather bound notepad. "Your first time in detox?"

So he had read my file.

"Yeah. I'd been there for a week. I wasn't in my right mind anyway, coupled with withdrawals and the complete freak-out my body was having, well I wasn't exactly making friends. A guy and girl round my age started coming in one day, to sit by my bed, to talk. Although I ignored them, to tell you the truth it was sort of nice not to be alone. A couple days of company-keeping later one of them gave me a letter. It said:

You are going to move through this.

More importantly, I love you. YOU ARE GOING TO MOVE THROUGH THIS.

Don't be defeated. Submit yourself to the process. You are growing. You are changing. You are doing LIFE.

I am not trying to make you feel better. This hurts, and there are no two ways around it. But I am trying to encourage you to not retreat. I can't remove the pain, but I am going to hold your hand while it hurts.

Continue to reach out. You need people right now.

I'm here for anything you need.

You are LOVED in ways you cannot imagine. In ways that don't depend on you. In ways that don't depend on your performance. In ways that cannot be lost. Remember Remember Remember.

Love you my friend.

"'Well ain't that sweet,' I thought, 'they want to be friends.'

"After a few days they showed the real reason they were there. Jesus. I was vulnerable and very weak and they knew I couldn't speak up. By the time they were asking me to accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour I got my voice back. Threw my used bedpan at them and told them to go fuck themselves... They didn't really want to be friends after that." I chuckled at the memory then continued before Carlisle could start. "Now let me guess, Carlisle, you're going to give me the spiel. Goes something like: God and tree, Adam and Eve, and Father, pray, forgive... I've heard it a thousand times. How Jesus will save me. Christians are a bunch of hypocritical assholes. No offence, but I'm sick of it. I don't want the package, and I don't want the free set of steak knives."

He studied me for a moment. "You know, a wise man once told me never to judge God by His people."

I didn't answer, and he didn't bring it up again.

Now he sat in the same armchair three months later; and while I still didn't want anything to do with God, I had come to respect and trust Carlisle. An older man to look up to was something I'd never had growing up.

He contemplated my story carefully. "So you think he is beating this girl? But you haven't seen it."

"I don't need to Carlisle, I know his type and I know that look. He's just the same as them."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "I'm not questioning your intuition Edward, and I understand she could be in danger, but before anything can be done about it there needs to be proof."

"So we wait until he beats the crap out of her?"

"No... I think it's a good idea to befriend her, show her there's someone she can trust. If you don't at least do that then any interference isn't going to be welcomed." He paused and a look crossed over his face, something akin to pride or success. "You do realise Edward that you're having a breakthrough moment here?"

"How so?"

"You've been withdrawn into yourself for so long now, this is the first time I've seen you take an interest in someone else's life. It's a big deal Edward."

"You're happy cos I've stopped being a self-involved asshole?"

"Well I wouldn't go that far..." He answered with an amused glint in his eye. "But it is a step forward." He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Just don't get too involved..."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well you obviously feel protective of her, and those sorts of feelings can move quickly into infatuation. By your description it sounds like she's a married woman and even so, you're probably not in the best place right now for a relationship."

"Woah, slow down there doc, I'm just concerned she's getting beat up, I'm not thinking about eloping."

Carlisle gave me a measured look then smiled. "Good. Now, let's talk about your new daily mission. How has it been?"