Saving Kelsea Ch. III

Chapter Three

Warren entered his house discreetly, hoping that he could slip into his bedroom unnoticed. 

He sighed, and as quietly as he could manage, he wheeled himself to the lift next to the stairwell. Just as the lift reached the second floor, two pairs of small hands grabbed him from either direction. It was his nieces, Sarah and Alyson. They were both dressed up as cops and they handcuffed his hands to the armrests of his wheelchair. He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, girls, what is Warren under arrest for this time?” he asked.

“We were watching you come in the front door,” said Sarah.

“And we saw that you look upset,” added Alyson.

If they were just a few years older, he would help them to better distinguish his facial expressions, but at their age, as far as they were concerned, if he didn’t have a positive look, he was upset about something.

He sighed. “Okay, a few things—one, if I looked upset upon walking in the door, it was because I had a long day at school. Two—Halloween’s at the end of the month. And three—looking a little sad is a silly reason to place me under arrest. Do I have any rights?”

“You’re our cousin,” they said simultaneously.

“So, no,” taunted Alyson playfully.

Warren glared at her and curled his lip in a sarcastic laugh. It also pained him whenever they called him “cousin”. They were his nieces, but as far as they knew, he was just their cousin. They were six years old and they were too young to know the truth about their heritage.

They were the splitting images of the woman who gave birth to them. They both had penetrating hazel-green eyes and their long hair was dark brown, almost black, just like his. They shared almost every feature and though Warren simply knew which was which, he always conjured up a reason as to how he could tell the difference whenever they asked him how he always knew.

“You didn’t wear the gauntlets we gave you today,” said Sarah.

Warren looked down at his cuffed hands and he inspected his black leather gauntlets with silver lace that went over his entire forearms including his hands, minus his fingertips. He looked back up at her apologetically. “Sorry, kiddo, I wasn’t sure if I’d be allowed to wear them since they had spikes.” Actually they were studs and he tried to explain the difference to them once, but as far as they were concerned, they were just small spikes.

“In fact, I almost got in trouble because a teacher told me that I wasn’t allowed to wear gauntlets at all.”

“Did you tell the teacher why you wear them?” asked Alyson.

“Mm, not exactly, but I did give the teacher a reason.”

"What did you tell her?" she asked.

“I told the teacher that I wore them because I didn’t want to hurt my hands when I’m pushing my wheels,” which actually was part of the reason as to why he wore them, but the main reason was more disturbing.

“Oh, well you won’t have to worry about getting trouble then,” said Alyson.

“Nope, now will you two please take these handcuffs off of me?” he asked. “I have a lot of homework to do.”

Alyson and Sarah shared a look before returning their gaze to him. They grinned. “Nah,” they said as one.

Warren sighed as he shook his head at them. “You munchkins should’ve said ‘yes’.” A moment later the handcuffs clicked and he held up his fists with a smirk upon his face.

The twins stared at him with their mouths wide open.

“How many times do I have to tell you two that if you want to keep me trapped you’re going to have to check my sleeves?” he opened his fists and revealed a paperclip in each.

“You’re no fun, Warren,” complained Alyson.

Warren shrugged. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I have homework to do.” He gave them an apologetic look and wheeled himself around. Quite unexpectedly, the two hurried up with him. They each took a handle of the back of his wheelchair and pushed him to his room.

“Warren, do you know when Aunt Sophia is coming home?” asked Sarah.

“Sorry, Sarah,” he replied. “All I know is that when she does come home, she is going to be having a meeting, so I doubt we’ll be having dinner with her.”

“Bummer,” complained Alyson. “She works a lot.”

“Well, she has a very important job that puts her in charge of a lot of things,” said Warren.  He did his best to tweak his speech to a level that they understood. “How was your day at school, girls?”

He heard them sigh heavily. “We didn’t have recess today,” they said as one.

Warren stopped and wheeled around to face them. “How come?”

“Our teacher told us we were being too disruptive,” answered Sarah sourly.

Warren sighed. Alyson and Sarah were both very high-spirited and he loved them for that, however, while they were getting good grades, they were not very good at picking good times to be playful. “What’d you two do this time?” he asked folding his arms.

They glanced downward ruefully, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

“We were tickling the kid next to us,” said Sarah.

Warren bit his lip, trying hard to maintain a stern look. “And why were you…tickling somebody in the middle of class?”

“We were bored,” they said as one.

Warren sighed. “Okay, it’s nice that you two want to be silly, but when you are in class, you shouldn’t be playing around. Recess is when you can play, but other than that you two need to be nice and do whatever the teacher tells you.”

“What if she asked us to jump off a building?” asked Alyson.

Warren tried hard to suppress his growing frustration. “Well in that case—which I sincerely hope never happens—don’t listen to your teacher. But other than that, just be obedient. Understand?”

“Yes, Warren,” they said together.

Warren chuckled. “Look at me, you two,” he placed a hand underneath their chins and gently pushed their faces up. “I’m not mad at you two,” he said. “I just don’t want either of you getting into trouble at school.”

They smiled weakly. Warren cocked his head. “Those aren’t smiles; give me real smiles.” They shook their heads. “C’mon give me some smiles,” he urged. They shook their heads stubbornly. “Smile!” he ordered in an ominous voice and he reached out and tickled their stomachs. They giggled. “Now those are smiles. Okay, sorry girls, but Warren has to go get his homework done."

They protested.

Warren turned away and continued to his bedroom. Oh, there were pros and cons to parentage. He wondered if his parents dealt with the same problems. Probably not, because they became parents in their twenties and they were married. Warren chose to become a parent when he was seventeen and his aunt wasn't too helpful with the task.

When he reached his bedroom which occupied the top floor of the tower, he pulled out a remote from his backpack and pressed a button. Immediately his bedroom door swung open and he wheeled himself in.

Warren always thought of his bedroom as being more of a suite in a five-star hotel. It had a king-sized bed in the middle and across from where the door was located was a glass door leading out to a veranda that overlooked the massive woods that Marek Estate bordered. Warren’s bed sat jammed against the left hand side of the room between two doorways. The one to the right opened up to a bathroom that even contained a washer and dryer, the one to the left opened up to a walk-in wardrobe. The wall opposite to his bed was a large desk and next to it were three dark blue guitars, an acoustic, an electric, and an electric seven-string, each sitting on stands next to large amplifiers. On the opposite side of the desk was yet another door that opened up to his own living room that had a leather couch and two cushioned chairs set in a semicircular fashion in front of a large plasma screen television set.

He hated his “bedroom”. It was, in simplest terms, the kind of bedroom that you wouldn’t necessarily yourself see leaving too often.

He wheeled himself over to his desk and pulled his backpack off of the back of his wheelchair. He pulled out his homework folder and a pen from a cup on top of his desk. After a long exhale, he began his homework.