Bright Star

by Grayson Reyes-Cole

  Still, this time, even without it, Thaddeus knew something was coming. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with the rock or not. They’d asked him how he got it that last time, but he couldn’t honestly say. He’d been home at the time, packing for his vacation. He’d reached into a dresser drawer and there it was. When he touched it, it was like a static shock magnified to a point where he felt as if his ear canals were sparking. After Jackson had taken it from him this time, though, he found that he continued to have some of the residual High Energy. High Energy that warned him something was coming. Something that let him know it was Frankie Monnish.

  He wouldn’t be at work tomorrow, the reason why… Well, he would leave that to the principle of determinism. He opened his refrigerator to think of more lofty questions: those that he felt he could actually impact. Beer or wine? Beer always seemed to win when he was alone. He grabbed two, actually, then made his way to the sliding door of his fifth floor balcony. He put his beers on the table then stretched out the plastic and aluminum chaise that provided the only seating. He opened a beer.

  Then he saw her. Unsure and unsteady, he said her name. “Frankie—”

  “My name is Point,” she interrupted gently, but stepped forward anyway. “I have something for you.” She held out her hand, and in the palm were the platinum cuff links he’d admired just days before. Her thick black hair, which she normally kept pulled back in a tight pony tail, caressed her shoulders as it blew in the subtle wind.

  For a moment, he’d thought about not taking them. Just a quick doubt. A pinprick. He’d learned long ago to listen to his instincts, the intuition his mother had bragged about when he was small. But he found something stronger than his intuition this time. He found that he had to have those cuff links. So he took them and put them into his pocket.

  “Frankie, I—”

  “Point,” she corrected him again.

  “OK,” he whispered, finding himself willing to agree with anything she said or wanted. “Point. Are you okay?”

  “Better,” she answered with a warm grin. Her teeth were white and straight. Her lips luscious. His body started to stir. Yep, this was his woman, all right.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “Here in town,” she answered, sitting down on the rickety chaise and pulling her arms around her body. “Not very far away at all.”

  “Cold?” he asked. Point nodded. Thaddeus reached inside the door to pull a throw off his sofa. He handed it to her. She wrapped the material around her shoulders and gazed up at him. She looked tousled, her pretty brown eyes languid. Thad wasn’t quite sure how to react. It seemed so unreal, a fantasy.

  “What is it?” he questioned.

  “Nothing.” She chuckled. Her dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle at him, then. “Funny, if you’d asked me that last week, we’d have probably had much more to talk about. But nothing’s wrong.”

  “I don’t understand.” Thaddeus slowly shook his head. He wasn’t completely sure he needed to understand. He already knew it felt as if he’d been given new life when he saw her. He hadn’t known until that moment how much he needed her. He’d suspected, but never really known.

  “You will,” she responded, then stood, throwing off the blanket. She stepped close to him and into a ready embrace. Thad was startled, but held her anyway. He would never have missed the opportunity to do so. She spoke to him, “I have something wonderful to tell you.”

  “That you love me?” he asked, trying to laugh, but grimacing instead. He had meant for it to be a joke, but his throat closed over the words. He wanted her to love him. God knew he’d loved her from the moment he’d met her. It had been too much to expect that she reciprocate.

  “I do love you.” She nodded. She said it so easy. As if weren’t cataclysmic. “More than I could ever show you.” Before he could adjust to that revelation, she spoke again. “But there is something else.”

  And even as she told him there was something else, Monk could see the woman standing in the shadow of his balcony watching them, her blue eyes startling as they shined in the dark. She tilted her chin up and down as if in approval. Then, Point’s slender, feminine fingers pressed something tightly into his palm, something he knew very well.

  *

  The back door slammed open. Jackson jumped to his feet and swung around. His jaw dropped when he saw the man entering his home.

  “Oh my god! What the hell are you doing here, Thad?” Jackson demanded. The taller, slim man passed through the back door and the kitchen with two duffle bags. He nodded at Jackson in a nonchalant greeting. Jackson noticed his friend was being followed closely by Bright Star and Point.

  “Thaddeus,” Jackson called. The other man kept walking. “Thaddeus!”

  Thaddeus slowed. He stopped. Then he turned. He didn’t say anything but he acknowledged Jackson with his eyes as Jackson approached.

  Bright Star stepped in front of him. “Monk,” she corrected. “His name is Monk, now.”

  “What?” Jackson breathed. “No, his name is Thaddeus Okwenuba.”

  “Monk,” Bright Star repeated sternly. She drew out the word as though Jackson needed time to process it.

  “But why is he here? Bright Star, how do you know him?” She didn’t answer. He turned back to Monk and demanded, “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here because Point brought me here,” he answered. As if he realized how cryptic that sounded, he added, “At the end of the day, I’m here because I have to be.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love you like a brother, man,” Jackson said, “but you can’t stay here. Does Sandoval know you’re out?”

  Monk shrugged his shoulders, a nonchalance that bugged Jackson.

  “Doesn’t matter about Randall, Jackson. Monk has to stay here,” Bright Star explained.

  “But he’s dangerous.”

  “Jackson.” Bright Star laughed. “Honey, we’re all dangerous. You know that.”

  “Yes, but we haven’t all nearly killed someone,” Jackson argued.

  Bright Star didn’t answer, but her silence was enough to remind Jackson that may not have been true.

  “Rush?” Bright Star asked the older brother, who had only observed.

  “He can stay,” Rush told them. He lounged in the doorway.

  Jackson jerked around and scowled at his brother. “You said she couldn’t stay, but you’re completely fine with this guy living in the house?”

  “Exactly,” Rush answered with a surly and challenging smile. “You kept a guest. Now, I guess I’m keeping a guest.”

  “But can’t you smell it?” Jackson persisted. “I can smell the violence on him. I can.”

  “The violence has passed,” Monk informed Jackson. “Rush saved me from it.”

  “So, he’s moving in, too,” Rush stated casually.

  Jackson was glad to see his brother taking it so well. He’d like to know how many more people were going to be squeezed in the tiny… two… four… five bedroom? When had they gotten five bedrooms? He went in to follow the trio as they started into the heart of the house.

  “Don’t you have to go to work?” Rush stopped him. Jackson looked at his watch. He had to get out of the house. It was morning already and he felt he’d been standing around in that kitchen all night. Maybe he had. He didn’t remember ever going to bed. What day was it? They were running together. No beginning, no end. Always changing, and yet, he was accepting it all as if it were not monumental.

  “Wait a minute.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “Nobody’s been tampering with you,” his brother assured him. “You just plain lost track of time. Easy to do with the hours these people keep.”

  Jackson was in no mood for Rush’s laconic wisdom.

  “Go on, Jacks. I’ll deal with this here. And, Jacks?”

  “What?” Jackson’s irritation was growing by leaps and bounds.

  “Don’t tell Randall he’s here.”

  Jackson stared at his brother for a
long moment before reluctantly agreeing. He searched for his jacket, for his bag, for his keys then left the home he barely knew anymore.

  Rush, however, followed his new guests. When he found the new room Bright Star had obviously added, he saw something he did not expect. Propped upright against the wall, Bright Star hung with her arms limp at her side. The new man, Monk, had his hands clenched around her throat. She gasped but did nothing to stop him. Neither did Point.

  Rush had to stop him before she was really and truly dying. He reached out and pried Monk’s hands from Bright Star with pure brute strength. He didn’t use any High Energy, only physical muscle. Bright Star started to cough convulsively, but her eyes shot daggers into Rush. He hadn’t truly saved her life. Not as he was destined.

  “Damn, man. I thought we determined the violence was gone,” Rush stated plainly. He tried to relax. “You can’t hurt her that way.”

  “Don’t you know what she’s going to do?” Monk yelled as he reached for her again. His eyes were wide with desperation. Sweat was beading on his forehead. Bright Star threw her head back and leaned towards him. She welcomed the onslaught.

  Rush pulled them apart again. This time, he placed a hand on Monk’s chest that jolted him backwards and knocked him into a wall. He glared silently at Bright Star who didn’t bother to massage her throat where heavy red welts were appearing.

  “Don’t you know?” Monk asked again in a deflated rasp as he slumped against the wall. “I saw it. I just saw it.”

  “Yes! Of course, I know,” Rush responded with more passion than he was accustomed to showing. “And don’t you know what I have to do if you actually start to kill her?”

  That brought Monk back to his senses. Yes, Rush thought, he knew. It was at that moment that Monk’s almond shaped eyes widened. Then he sank to his knees in front of Rush.

  “Get up,” Rush commanded with shock in his voice.

  Monk didn’t comply immediately. Instead, he just continued to peer up at Rush for a painful moment.

  “I won’t kneel if you don’t want me to,” Monk told him. “But know that I am not a man who typically gets on his knees in front of another man. Understand that I know who you are and what will happen. Know that I am only trying to do what you want.”

  “Why?” Rush asked exasperated. “Hell, I should be kneeling to you.”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Monk answered.

  At that, Rush found himself laughing. “I live every day in ‘hard to explain.’ Try.”

  “I feel things. Or rather I know them. I always have, but haven’t been able to express my Talent without this,” he held up the rock for Rush to see, then handed it to him. “And, I feel who you are. I feel your Energy.”

  “Who do you think I am?” Rush asked. His hawk’s eyes pierced the other man’s.

  Monk looked over at Bright Star. “I agree with her.”

  “I am not a noble man,” Rush stated.

  “Sadly, I agree with you.”

  The man called Monk stood in front of Rush. “You nearly killed Point tonight,” Rush stated. The woman in question did not address the statement. In fact, she turned away from them.

  “I know,” came the hollow response. “I will always be indebted to you for saving her life. And for saving mine. I wouldn’t have wanted to live without her. I couldn’t let myself live if I had…”

  Rush held up a hand. He opened it, and Monk’s eyes widened to see that Rush held the rock he had just pressed close in his palm. The small hematite rock that Jackson wrestled from Thaddeus Okwenuba only a few months before, the same one that had just caused him to rip apart the woman he loved. Even then, both Monk and Rush could sense the increased heart rate, the adrenaline, the corporal obsession Monk experienced just from looking at it. But he didn’t reach for it. No. He stood still, his eyes affixed to the pebble. As the man watched, the pebble floated high above Rush’s hand.

  The explosion was loud enough to cause both Point and Bright Star to bend over clutching their ears. The hematite shattered into glinting dust that froze like ice crystals suspended in air for mere milliseconds before exploding again, this time into dust. “Now,” Rush told him, “Your rock is with you forever. You don’t have to worry about it anymore. You just need to learn to focus your High Energy and to control it.” As a command, it was a strong one. But the monk still had doubts.

  “I don’t have High Energy without it,” Monk told Rush. He was astonished that Rush had destroyed the thing that had haunted him for nearly two decades. “I can’t believe you destroyed it!”

  “Listen, Monk, I am not a part of the Service. I don’t know why that rock activated your High Energy or why you became so violent with it, and I don’t care. All I know is that you used it to focus your Talent. I can tell it’s inside you even if Randall can’t. You just need a focal point. And now you have another one,” he nodded to Point. “I know you won’t hurt her again.”

  Monk turned and reached out to Point. As soon as Rush said it, he could tell the man knew it to be true. Point would lead Monk to his Talent.

  Monk shook his head, “When she came to me…” He was reluctant to continue. Point still wore a haunted expression as she watched him, but she held on to him anyway. “She came to me and I already wanted her so much. Then she gave it to me: the rock. I couldn’t control my urges when I had it.”

  “You don’t only have violent urges. And you noticed you have some use of your Talent when you’re with her.”

  The monk smiled bashfully and lowered his head. But then, as if he had been reminded of a horror, he said to Rush: “You know what she’s going to do. To us. To you. To the world.”

  “Knowing what she’s going to do and stopping her are two very different things.” Rush hedged.

  “But you know. You know and you can stop her!” Monk accused.

  “Yes,” Rush agreed. “I do know, but I can’t stop her.”

  “You can stop her. Stop her now!”

  Bright Star looked on and nodded in support of Monk’s words. Point joined in, pleading with Rush as well.

  “I can’t,” was his only reply. Then he turned and left the room.

  The disappointment was tangible. It sapped the other three of their energy. It left them morose, depleted, and aggrieved. It left Bright Star with a new plan.

  *

  In the South bedroom, the two newest souls stood facing each other.

  “I killed you,” Monk told Point. His eyes were wet.

  “You nearly killed me,” she corrected him with a smile.

  His whole body shook with a sob he felt he had been holding for decades. His eyes started to burn and the tears came without permission. His shoulders quivered. He bit down on his lip, but another sob escaped. She didn’t have a scratch on her. There wasn’t even a blood stain on her clothes. Nothing. But he could still feel it. Could still smell the fresh blood and opened flesh. Could still see inside her. Could still imagine the pain he had caused her. In his head, there was a refrain: I should kill myself. I should kill myself. I hurt her. I could hurt her again unless I end this. I love her, but I hurt her. I should just end it all.

  Point swayed into his body and reached up to drape her arms over his shoulders. She kissed his eyes and stroked his cheek. She told him it was okay.

  “I was dying already,” she explained in a soft voice. “My mother and her mother both died this way. I was dying already. I barely felt it. Then again, I barely felt alive except when you were near, and now I’m all better, sweetheart. You helped him save me.”

  “I didn’t,” he rasped in a broken voice and shook his head.

  “You did.” She held his face between her hands and looked directly into his eyes. “You did. Without you, Rush would not have saved me, repaired me, delivered me. I couldn’t do it myself. Bright Star wanted me to, but I couldn’t. I was a coward. Without you and Bright Star, I never would have known what he has been put here to do. You have to help, Monk. You have to help us make him recognize
his destiny.”

  Monk’s eyes dried. “He knows his destiny.”

  Blossom

  Bright Star was alone in her room sitting cross-legged on her bed. It was either late in the night, or impossibly early in the morning. She didn’t know which.

  The large bay windows in her room were open. Icy rain slipped in from the heavy blue sky. Wind caused it to swirl and assault. She didn’t care.

  She raised her hands high above her head and breathed deeply. She exhaled. She did it again and again. She didn’t stop.

  She caught her reflection in the mirror. A pale white body bathed in muted moonlight shown ethereal, otherworldly and alluring. Above the body were glowing blue eyes. Even to herself, she looked like a specter. Like a succubus. She ran her hands over her body. Her new body. It was newer even from when she had first made it over. Every time. Every time she was new again. She was stronger, faster, smarter, more Talented than she had ever imagined she could be.

  Rush. She called to him knowing he wouldn’t respond. That was okay. As long as she knew he was there. And he always was. He was only a flicker of consciousness away. She felt warm, safe and secure whenever their minds touched. She flooded him with those feelings. She wanted him to know what he had done for her. She wanted him to know what he could do for everyone.

  At that last thought, he shut her out. The mental link between them was cut. Still, she knew that was only a ruse. Rush would never truly abandon her. She smiled.

  In the mirror, she watched her reflection. Slowly, though she remained the same, it changed. Waxy green leaves covered her breasts and the apex between her thighs. Green and blue leaves laced together to circle her head. Peacock feathers and tall fronds sprouted, creating a glorious headdress. Her arms raised and she grinned. Bright Star shuddered at the image of herself. Then she felt sharp pain shooting through her toes and up her calves. The image was on fire. Blue flames licked their way up the image. The flames became so intense that all Bright Star could see was a giant, brilliant blue ball of flaming gas. She wanted to scream, but she wouldn’t. She would face it. She would face what she had to do. She would not waver. She would never falter. She was who she was. The image disappeared.