A Writer's Fairytale

Prince James: Stairs to Heaven

I thought for a moment that she would be angry, but instead her curious side was the one to shine through. “Where do you wish to carry me to?” I could tell by the tone in her voice that she had no real plans of letting me carry her anywhere.

I decided that I would make the effort. I did not do what my grandfather had taught me to do on this occasion because in this case she had a right to know where I planned on carrying her to. I wanted her to know that I was not someone who wanted to take advantage of her. I just wanted to help her.  “Where you live, my car maybe, anywhere where I can see that your knee is ok.” I decided not to say my hotel room figuring that would get back her fiery side in a way that I did not wish to see.

I saw her straighten her chin just a little making it higher than it was before. “That is quite alright. I will be just fine on my own. If you could just help me to my feet I will be on my way.” I did as she asked, but I felt her wavering just standing there.

She leaned into me for balance. I do not know how else to explain this but to say that I must have been crazy. A girl I had never met was leaning on me for balance and all I think of was how happy I was. I had never once laid eyes on her, but I still felt that I could have stayed there forever. The moonlight and the street lights lighting up the sky. The stars smiling down on the spark that the whole world must have felt and then her and I just standing there, this was a scene that I could imagine forever. I quickly tried to regain my composure by asking “May I at least walk with you so you may stay on your feet?” I said this but I as I was saying this, I put my arm around her.

I could feel her trying to fight me, but just for a moment and then in the moonlight we just stood there. I could tell that she was contemplating her options. I knew that she did not have many. It was either walk with me back to the place of her choosing or I would lean her against a wall standing far enough away from her that she could not see me, but close enough that at the first sign of trouble I could be there to help her. I could tell that she had made up her mind, but the way her lips moved I could tell that it was not the one that she was hoping that it would be. “If you must.” I could tell that in her voice she wanted me to feel unwanted and unneeded but I knew that she was wrong. She needed me and I was not going to leave her on the street unable to walk. Even if I would not have just had that spark that the world had just shown me, I would still not have just left her there. I was raised differently. I was raised to treat woman with respect. It was something that they should always have. Respect.

“Shall we be on our way?” I said thinking that she would make the first move. Everything in her personality thus far concluded to the assumption that she would be willing to make the first move. I wanted her to make the first move. I wanted to go at a pace that she could handle and the only way I could do that was if I let her go first.  

I waited and waited but we just stood there. I decided that I should give her a nudge and tell her that I wanted her to make the first move. “When you are ready, you may make the first move.” After I said that she went to take her first step. She was fine until she landed with her left leg. She winced and grabbed my shoulder in pain. I liked the feeling of her releasing her pain through me. I wanted to be there to protect her. Again I was sounding crazy I had never met her, but my heart skipped a beat when she squeezed my shoulder. It made me feel like the protector. I felt like the knight and she was the damsel in distress. “Are you alright?” I said those were the only words that I could muster through. My mind was full of thoughts, but none I wished to admit out loud. I was not ready to say anything out loud. I was not ready to fully believe in what I was thinking.

She straightened herself raising her shoulders higher. She lifted her chain and then after she was back to her height and her pride she said “I am just fine.”

Every step we took she would squeeze my shoulder harder than the time before. I wanted to stop her; ask her if she was sure she was alright. I wanted to sweep her up into my arms and carry her anywhere in the world she would like to go, but I refrained from doing any of it instead I let her keep on walking and I let her keep what pride she thought that she would lose if she let me carry her. “My apartment is in that building.” She said pointing to a small stone building.

The building was not fancy, but it looked decent enough. I was sure that it would house its residents well. There were a set of stairs that lead up to two sets of glass doors. There was a sign above the door that said North Wood’s Apartment Complex. Her steps began to slow it was almost like she did not want to be seen with me. I had no idea why that might be the case, but I began to realize that I had no right to pry into her life, yet. I didn’t know what I was thinking, but in that moment I was thinking that somehow someway before I left North Wood, I would have this girl to call my own and she would have me to call her own. When we made it to the stairs of her apartment building I could see it in her eyes that she planned to walk the rest of the way by herself.

She turned toward the stairs and I could see the weariness in her eyes. I could see that even she knew that taking on the stairs alone was a bad idea, but an idea that she was going to stick too. “Thank you.” She was able to muster out. I knew that it pained her to even say that much to me. I watched as she looked back at the stairs her eyes were a mixture of agony and self-assurance. There was something in her attitude that I had to admire. She was strong and had more determination then I had ever seen. Some of this I decided was due to what I could only call a bad hand that the dealer of life had decided to give her. There was pain in her voice. She had been through more than most and her determination was built out of necessity.

She turned back to me “I can take it from here.” She said in a weary voice. I knew that something was going to happen. I stood waiting for it all to go wrong. I saw her take a long deep breath in and then as she released it out she took her first step. Her knees were shaking and I could tell that she was likely to fall at any second. There I stood waiting for her to fall into my arms. When her body finally gave out on her I stood there with my hands outstretched ready to catch her.

Her body fell and I caught her. I could tell that it took her a minute to process that she had not hit the ground, that something had stopped her from falling. She looked up at me her voice shaking with every forced syllable “Nice Catch.”

I was not going to watch another futile attempt of her trying to climb her steps. I put my hand toward her legs and I heard her protest the minute that I tried “What do you think you are doing?” Her voice was demanding but I refused to let her have her way this time. I had given her a chance to prove that she could handle it, but I would not sit by and watch her torture herself all night so she could keep the pride that she thought that I was going to steal from her. I swept her into my arms the perfume that she was wearing was intoxicating.

I took a deep breath and released it. “What floor is your apartment?” I asked. I knew that my voice did not sound like it was asking, it sounded like it was demanding and maybe it was or maybe it was her that was building something inside of me. I wanted to prove something to her, though I was not sure what it was.

“I am quite capable of walking up to my room on my own thank you.” Her voice rang out through the air. Her words were filled with the pride that she was so fearful of losing.

This was not going to be a discussion, that I knew. I was going to do what I needed to do, no matter what she had to say about it. “What floor is your room on?” I made sure my voice was calm, but inside my mind, it was anything but calm.

It took several minutes and I figured that she was debating her options in her head. I was also looking into the options that she might have. She could do what I had asked or she could scream for help. She would never scream for help she was too proud to look toward anyone for help. That left her just telling me what I wanted to know. I was just trying to help her.

Then the thought of her trying to fight back flashed into my mind. I did not know what I was going to do if that happened. I could see her kicking her legs and flailing her arms in every direction and me just holding her there not wanting to drop her. What would happen if I did drop her, the blood seeping from her new wound found on the back of her head? If I did not drop her and I was able to place her gently down, then what? She would not be able to get very far and she would not let me pick her back up or even help her. I would just stand there looking at her futile attempts to run away from the man that she feared.

I was glad when that fear did not happen. “The second one, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” I was off the moment that I heard the words the second one. I started walking up the steps. I pretended that I did not hear the rest, not that I would have listened to them anyway.

Her weight was nothing in my arms, but I had decided that even if her weight was bad I would not have cared there was just something about her that made me want to take care of her no matter how much pain it caused me. As I walked I realized that the movement of my walking probably hurt her. I did my best to try to use my own body as a cushion for her. I did not want her to feel any pain, but I knew that I could only make her feel so comfortable the walk up the steps was still going to hurt her.

When we had finally reached the second floor I asked “Which number?”