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If I tell you right up front, right in the beginning that I lost him, it will be easier for you to bear. You will know it’s coming, and it will hurt. But you’ll be able to prepare.
Someone found him in a laundry basket at the Quick Wash, wrapped in a towel, a few hours old and close to death. They called him Baby Moses when they shared his story on the ten o’clock news – the little baby left in a basket at a dingy Laundromat, born to a crack addict and expected to have all sorts of problems. I imagined the crack baby, Moses, having a giant crack that ran down his body, like he’d been broken at birth. I knew that wasn’t what the term meant, but the image stuck in my mind. Maybe the fact that he was broken drew me to him from the start.
It all happened before I was born, and by the time I met Moses and my mom told me all about him, the story was old news and nobody wanted anything to do with him. People love babies, even sick babies. Even crack babies. But babies grow up to be kids, and kids grow up to be teenagers. Nobody wants a messed up teenager.
And Moses was messed up. Moses was a law unto himself. But he was also strange and exotic and beautiful. To be with him would change my life in ways I could never have imagined. Maybe I should have stayed away. Maybe I should have listened. My mother warned me. Even Moses warned me. But I didn’t stay away.
And so begins a story of pain and promise, of heartache and healing, of life and death. A story of before and after, of new beginnings and never-endings. But most of all...a love story.
It was when I sat up, shaking straw from my hair, that I saw Moses, just sitting in the far corner on a low stool my dad used for shoeing the horses. He was as far away from the horses as he could get, and thankfully, none of them seemed especially alarmed by his presence. But I was, just for a moment, and I let out a startled squawk.
He didn’t apologize or laugh or even make small talk at all. He just eyed me warily, as if watching me sleep was what I had summoned him for.
“What time is it?” I whispered, my voice scratchy and my heart heavy. He just made me feel so damn heavy.
“You just got home?”
“No. I went home. Showered. Went to bed.”
“You’re sleep walking, then?” I kept my voice light, soft.
“What do you want, Georgia? I kind of thought you were done with me.” Ah. There it was. A flash of anger. Quiet, brief. But there. And I reveled in it. My mom always said negative attention is better than no attention at all. She was usually talking about foster kids who acted out. But apparently it also applied to seventeen-year-old girls who were in love with boys who didn’t love them back. That thought made me angry.
“Do you love me, Moses?”
“No.” His response was immediate. Defiant. But he stood and walked toward me anyway. And I watched him come, my eyes roving over him hungrily, my heart a huge, needy knot in my chest.
I didn’t argue with him because I knew that’s what he was going to say. And I had already decided that I wouldn’t believe him.
He squatted down beside the square bales I’d turned into a love nest. But he said he didn’t love me. So maybe my bed needed a different name. I laid back down and pulled the blanket around my shoulders, suddenly chilled and incredibly tired. But he followed me, hovering above me, his arms braced on either side of my head as he watched me watch him. And then he closed the distance and kissed my mouth chastely. Once, twice. And then again, not so chastely, with more pressure and more intent.
I breathed deeply and wrapped my hands around his neck, bringing him into me. I soaked in his scent, the sharp tang of paint mixed with soap and the red striped candy mints his grandma kept in a bowl on the kitchen table. And something else too. Something I had no name for, and it was that unknown part of him that I wanted most of all. I kissed him until I could taste it in my mouth and when that wasn’t enough, I pulled it through the palms of my hands and the brush of my skin against his as he moved his mouth to my neck and whispered in my ear.
“I’m not sure what you want from me, Georgia. But if this is it, I’m willing.”
“A story of before and after, of new beginnings and never-endings.”
The Law of Moses was haunting, beautiful, visual, complex, profound and so, SO original. The prologue…GAH! This wasn’t just a book for me but an experience. It was written with such a lyrical quality that I couldn’t help but get lost in the words. I didn’t feel like I was simply reading this story but taking a journey with Moses and Georgia. I absolutely LOVED the artistic quality of this book. Not only the fact that Moses was an artist but the flow of the book as well.
Moses is broken, cracked, and misunderstood. He experiences the world on a whole other level than most people but Georgia finds him beautiful and Moses is drawn to her.
“Maybe the fact that he was broken drew me to him from the start.”
Quite simply, Moses paints outside the lines…literally. His artwork is talented and original, with a breathtakingly beautiful aesthetic but is unfocused and unconventional. The small, closed minded town he lives in just doesn’t understand him or his drive to create this art…but really, neither does Moses. What drives him to paint his pictures? Why does he have the obsessive like behavior to do it?
“If I were to paint you, I would use every color”…”You would have crimson lips and peach skin and ebony eyes with purple shadows. You would have hair streaked with gold and white and blue and skin tinted with caramel and cream, swirled with pin and shaded with cinnamon.”
The way Georgia supported and encouraged Moses and never gave up on his frustrating, broken ways was so heartfelt for me. She was relentless in her efforts to catch Moses and make him notice her…and he noticed.
“Careful, Georgia. You’re about to get thrown.”
However Moses is lost and confused and so, so conflicted. When a life changing event happens to Moses, his cracks grow deeper and he descends deeper into darkness. He distances himself from the one person who loves him most in an effort to keep her in the light but what he doesn’t realize is Georgia needs him.
“Maybe I should have stayed away from him. Maybe I should have stayed away.”
This distance allows Moses to hone his craft, patch up his cracks, and create opportunities for himself, but at what cost? When Unforeseen circumstances brings him back to the town that never understood him and the only girl he ever loved, what will happen and what has Georgia been up to during this time?
There is SO MUCH to this story. Layer upon layer of story all interconnected to create this one journey between two souls. I’ve left a lot of the story out of my review and have been purposefully vague because…you have to go in blind. HAVE TO! It’s important for the experience and those “ah-ha” moments, and you will have them. If you’re looking for an original, well written, captivating, unique love story look no further.
“This is a love story of love with no end.”
My 5 Greats?
My husband, my children, coffee, laughter, and getting lost in a great book.