The Book Of Jude

Chapter Sixteen: The Truth

"How dreadful knowledge of the truth can be when there is no help in truth!"

Sophocles

Hail, Mary, full of grace...

She couldn't help it. It was comforting to repeat the words over and over. She wasn't even Catholic, but the dogma had been ingrained in her since she was a toddler. Mrs. Bertram was a staunch believer in the faith and brought up every single one of her charges to know what to do with a set of rosary beads. Most children who'd grown up under her instruction either became good little Catholics or disillusioned hedonists bent on attaining their own will without help from God or anyone else.

But Jude had run away from that place even before her First Communion--not that she would have been allowed to participate anyway. Mrs. Bertram used to warn her that because she was evil, she would be struck dead by lightening if the Body of Christ even touched her lips. This always confused Jude. She'd seen older boys and girls at their First Communion, and the only thing she ever saw was a priest with wafers and wine--no body. And when she questioned Mrs. Bertram on this matter, the old woman always assured her that she was bound straight for Hell for such blasphemy.

Jude figured she was bound for such a place, but not on account of some silly doctrine. No, by now, she had far worse sins under her belt. Still, the words comforted her in times of turmoil, such as now.

The day had dawned sunny and bright, the perfect day for a fair. As the little children around her twittered and chattered with high anticipation, Jude only felt dread welling up inside her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes against the warm morning sun.

Hail, Mary, full of grace...

No one was listening to her up there, she was sure of it. But the words calmed her as she repeated them. It must be psychological, she reasoned. She crossed the street toward the Commons where merchants and artisans were setting up tents and musicians and thespians were rehearsing their theatricals. It was always a sight to behold--modern people trying to recreate something of the past. A sixteenth-century fair where one can meander through tents of synthetic, waterproof materials, hear Scarborough Fair played on the electric guitar, and see a group of teens with badly-dyed, raven hair try to re-create some faux-Gothic look with a little zinc face paint, eyeliner and mascara, and a lot of black cloaks and robes. It was a sight to behold.

Jude wandered through the maze, lost in her thoughts. It would be hard to find her regular spot, a nice and shady piece of ground under the arms of a large Poplar, amid all of these tents. She hadn't told Rhys exactly where to meet her, but she was sure he would know. She used to come to that very spot every chance she got just to read or enjoy the scenery with Darcy. He would know.

She resumed the task of silently steeling herself for the job she was about to undertake. This may be the toughest task she had faced. Betraying dark lords and warding off bullies was nothing compared to what she was about to do. In only a few hours she would have secured her happiness forever or she would be faced with the harsh reality that she could never make her dreams real. She found her tree and slowly sank to the grass that covered its roots.

Hail, Mary, full of grace...

It was ludicrous to believe that anyone was listening to her up there. Even if there was someone to hear her prayers, what made her think that she deserved their attention? She didn't. Any faith she'd had in these words was crushed long ago. She had no faith in that grace, only a little faith in those she cared for, and even less faith in herself. She didn't know if she could go through with this.

"Hullo, Love." She looked up from the grass where her gaze rested to see Rhys standing in front of her.

She smiled and got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her hands on her jeans. "Hey."

He took her hand and led her down the path before them between the merchants. "Love, I know you have something really important to tell me, I mean, that's the reason you've been keeping me away, right? And why you asked me to come here." He looked down and noticed her nod. "Well, we have plenty of time to worry about that, Love."

She furrowed her brow in an enquiring manner. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. Kissing her forehead, he continued as she entwined her fingers with his.

"At six o'clock, you may tell me anything you want to. But, until then, you are not to bring up any other subject that may be a drag on the first entire day I get to spend with you in a whole year." She laughed softly. Leave it to Rhys to make even the most difficult situation better.

"Deal," she agreed. She could think of worse ways to spend the time. At least now she could have a few hours of happiness before possibly ruining every chance she had at it.

"You promise? No talking about things which make you sad until six tonight? Only how great I look today and how much you love me."

Jude couldn't fight a smile. He was so good at making her forget everything but him. "I promise."

After a few moments of silent strolling, Jude was struck by an odd thought. "Rhys, where's Darcy?"

"Oh, I let Lex keep her today. He wanted to use my precious girl to pick up chicks. I didn't want to let her go, put he gave me those pathetic puppy dog eyes. What kind of friend would I be anyway if I didn't help him get laid?"

Jude huffed a little, disappointed sigh. "I was hoping to see her today, though. I miss her just as much as you."

Rhys made a shocked noise.

"What? You thought you were the only one I've been missing?"

He nodded reluctantly and sniffed as if he were about to cry.

"Oh, come off it, you big baby." She wrapped her arm around his waist and brought him closer to her, bending her face upward to meet his. This would be so much easier, she thought, if only she were half a foot taller. Luckily, he got the hint and bent to kiss her.

"See, what did I say? I knew you wouldn't be needing her today."

Jude broke away from Rhys instantly to see whom she had to thank for the ill-timed interruption. The shaggy blonde hair and John Lennon wannabe glasses--it could be only one person. Lex was standing in front of his good friend wearing a big grin. He knew when he wasn't wanted, but that didn't mean he would make himself scarce.

"Perfect timing, as usual, Lex."Jude didn't feel like being cordial today.

"And lovely to see you again, too, Jude." He huffed indignantly. She suspected that Lex had always resented her for monopolizing his best friend's time in the past, and now feared it happening all over again. Still, he was a good guy and fun to be around and Jude didn't blame him for any ill feeling between them. After all, her social skills did leave a little to be desired.

She was overjoyed, however, to see Darcy straining at the lead wrapped around Lex's wrist, trying to get to her. Squatting down in front of the dog, she allowed Darcy to vent her affection by licking her all over her face and neck.

"Any luck, Lex?" Rhys inquired, stroking his dog's ears.

"Well, one gal said 'when the Prime Minister flashes the Queen,' so I think there's still a chance there."

Jude couldn't help but laugh at that one. "Just get back up on the bike and try again, mate," she encouraged. She looked up from the dog to Lex. She noticed that his attention was no longer held by Rhys and herself. A leggy blonde at a nearby tent had stolen it away.

"You know, that sounds like great advice, doll. Catch you two later." He moved as if mesmerized over to where the woman stood. "C'mon, Darcy. You're not off the hook yet."

"Poor girl," Rhys muttered, his eyes following his dog.

"Which one?" Jude questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Both."

***

"Now, what did you need to tell me?" Rhys' question startled her into reality. She'd almost forgotten her promise to tell him everything when that time came. Well, it was here and she was so wrapped up in Rhys that it almost blindsided her. They strolled along the sidewalk next to the busy avenue skirting the Commons. He brought her fingers that remained entwined in his up to his lips and fixed his eyes on hers.

"I...well, I don't really know where to start." She fidgeted a little under his piercing stare, unsure really of how to start. She knew this would be hard, but the reality of it all was much worse than what she simply imagined.

"Well, Love, you could start by telling me where these scars came from." A pause was all the response he got. She tried to find the words but they all seemed to fail her. He prompted her further. "Jude, just tell me what happened last year."

She sighed. Here goes nothing. "A boy started school last year at Hogwarts. Harry Potter."

"Is that the same kid who..."

"Yes." Rhys looked a little stunned and confused. She tried to explain further. "The same kid that was responsible for defeating Voldemort. Well, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the same Headmaster I had, asked me to come back and work as his personal assistant."

Rhys nodded his head, listening patiently. Jude knew that he understood little of this but was kind enough to let her explain in her own time without interruption.

"You see, that night when Voldemort attacked the Potters, he wasn't really killed. He was still alive, sort of, but with diminished powers." She hoped she didn't sound like a complete quack. "He'd been tracked to Eastern Europe, but never caught. Then, last summer, there was news of attempts to steal the Sorcerer's Stone." At a quizzical glance from Rhys, Jude felt compelled to clarify. "The Stone is the only sure-fire way I can think of to gain immortality. It seems as if the Dark Lord had the same idea."

"I don't understand, Jude," Rhys interrupted for the first time. "What does any of this have to do with you?" Jude was touched by the tone of concern in his voice, but pressed on, determined not to let anything sway her decision to explain this all to him.

"Well, the Headmaster thought it would be best if the Stone was placed under his protection at the school. But," she pressed onward. "Harry would be there come September, conveniently placing both objectives in one spot. Dumbledore wanted me there to keep an eye on the kid and make sure he stayed out of harm's way."

"But that's pretty dangerous, don't you think?" Rhys stopped his pacing and faced her. "Only a wacko wouldn't see how easy that makes it for the murdering bastard."

Jude frowned a little at the unintended disrespect of the man she looked up to. "The Ministry pressed him into it. They were eager to make a capture and were not above using the boy to sweeten the deal for Voldemort. It was all a plot." Rhys was listening intently to her words. She knew what he wanted her to say. "We didn't catch Him, Rhys." She saw the disappointment flicker across his face.

After a short pause, Rhys looked back into her eyes. "And the scars?"

She let her eyes fall to her shoes as they toed the concrete beneath her feet. "I...tried to stop Him. But...well, I was thrown through a mirror." God, that was embarrassing to admit. If it hadn't been for her, Voldemort might have been caught or killed or...

Astonishment was written all over Rhys' face. "You what?Jude, Love, you could have been killed. Why in the world would someone ask that of a person? And why on earth would you agree?" He was shouting as if this were all too ridiculous to fathom, waving his arms around and drawing lots of attention.

Jude grabbed his hands and pinned them to his side. It wasn't long before he realized he was making a scene and calmed down. "That's what I've wanted to talk to you about." She bit her lip anxiously. This was it. Now or never.

Rhys was a rapt audience. He raised her chin to bring her gaze level to his. He could tell this was hard for her, but he had to know. He had to know how all of this was connected to what she hadn't been able to tell him about her past and what she was no longer willing to hide.

"This has to do with your past somehow?"

Jude nodded. Her breath was coming in heaving gasps now, and as she tried to calm down all she could think was that she was going to do what she had been afraid to do for five years.

She gulped down one last breath. "I told you I was abandoned at a young age, right?" She couldn't remember how much she'd told him about her past and how many lies she'd told him along with the truth.

She was relieved when he nodded. "And that you ran away from an orphanage at the age of six. But what does..."

"I'm getting there," she whispered. She felt guilty for dragging this out, inevitably making it harder for both of them. But it was difficult to gather the courage that she never believed she possessed. Another deep breath. "I ran away to London. Lived on the streets for...oh, I can't even remember now. Well, it's not important." Stop jabbering, she told herself. "Anyway, I met someone there. Someone who promised me that He could help me find out who I was, who my family was." Her eyes alone betrayed the alarm she was feeling as she watched him process the information she'd given him. He was clever, she knew this all too well. They were both clever, too much alike really, to make a likely pair.

His eyes bored into her. She could barely hold his stare. "Voldemort. That's who you met up with in London."

She couldn't discern if his tone was really accusing or if it was all in her mind. She nodded. Her small frame was shaking uncontrollably and she prayed that he couldn't see her trembling. Her pride would not allow her to appear weak, even in front of him. "He used me, made me believe that He could offer me everything I wanted--answers to all of my questions. I was only seven, for Christ's sake." It sounded like an excuse. The thought made her sick. She wasn't trying to excuse what she'd done, what she'd allowed herself to become. "I'm not trying to make excuses, Rhys. I know it was all my choice...but..."

"So you're..." He backed a step away from her. A gesture that told her that, despite all of his protests that there was nothing she could say to push him away, there was still one thing. Only one thing that he could never forgive. One thing that she would never say. But she had said it.

His chest was heaving now, along with hers. His eyes begged her to deny it. But she couldn't. "You're a..." he tried again, but his words failed him.

All she could do was nod. She didn't trust herself to speak.

After a pause, he managed to choke out the words "Do you have the..."

Another nod.

Rhys looked horrified as she rolled up the long sleeve of her shirt and unclasped the wide silver band that encircled her wrist. It was there. The black mark that branded her for life. It was hideous, like the mark that he'd seen in the newspaper article about his parents' deaths. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The mark of the man who'd murdered his family marred the arm of the girl he loved.

"You're one of them," he choked out, his shoulders shaking under dry sobs.

"No!" She shook her head, willing him to believe her. Her arm dropped to her side, her eyes flew wide open. She had to convince him that she was not that same angry little girl. "Not anymore. That's not who I am...I'm not sure it ever was."

He wanted to believe her. In fact, the deep and jagged scar that ran the length of her arm, wrist to elbow, was clearer proof than anything she could say. A scar like that came from a wound that was self inflicted, bisecting her forearm most thickly across the mark. There was no doubt she regretted everything she had once allied herself with. But he couldn't help looking at her as if this was the first time he'd ever seen her--she was a different person. This wasn't the Jude he knew, not the same girl he loved. "You knew...about my parents...and you never said anything! Not a word. You pretended like it never happened...like it didn't matter." Nothing was making sense to him, not even his own words.

She tried desperately to keep her chin from quivering. There was no way she was going to cry, not now. She was tough. But could she bear to see him walk away from her? She didn't know. "I didn't want to lose you!" She pleaded as he turned his back to her. What could she do or say to make him stop? But she was relieved and surprised when he did stop and slowly turn to face her.

"Were you there?" His shoulders slumped, and his chin fell to his chest. Whatever he was expecting, this was not it--this was a nightmare.

"No." Her reply was adamant, begging him to believe her. Maybe he would forgive her.

He raised his head to look at her as she stood, defeated in spirit and desperate for any sign from him. He tried to soften his expression, he knew he still loved her--if he didn't, this wouldn't hurt so much. But his eyes only managed a cold and stern look, his jaw set and tense. "Did you murder anyone, Jude?"

Watching her head bow to her chest, shoulders slumping in guilt was enough. He didn't even need to hear the whispered confirmation from Jude's lips. She had killed.

He nodded and spun on his heels. He needed to get away, to put distance between them. As he reached the curb, he heard her call his name. The sound was heart-rending. Successfully blinking back a tear, he turned to see her standing where he'd left her. Her head was cocked to one side, like a confused puppy, not knowing what to do next. Tears, too, streaked her face. It alarmed Rhys a little to see her like that. He'd never, in all of the five years that he'd known her, seen her cry. He wanted to run back to her and scoop her up in his arms and tell her that everything would be fine. But he wasn't sure things would ever be fine again. He needed to think.

Still staring at her, despair and disbelief written all over her face, he let his foot slide off the curb and onto the street. Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, he forced himself to turn his face away from her--everything he'd ever wanted. The static of confused thoughts in his head was enough to drown out the screech of brakes grinding and rubber squealing against the asphalt.

"Rhys!" He heard Jude scream and wanted to turn to find out why she called to him, but everything happened so fast. Yet oddly enough, it seemed as everything was simultaneously happening in slow motion. He felt the pavement bite into his cheek and then...black.