Chapter 28: Selfish
The anticipation of Terease finding me sends waves of nausea through my stomach. She stands right below. So close, I hear her breathing.
Trembling, I tighten my fingers around the tiny box, holding the unknown CeCe relic. Every muscle in my body tenses, rigid.
Her leather suit squeaks as she bends down. She slides the archive box out from its resting spot and flips off the top. It flies across the aisle, slamming onto the floor.
“Blast it all!” she snarls, enraged. She kicks the empty box across the room. It crashes into the opposing shelf. I jolt and grind my teeth together.
“Argus! Ar—gus!” she yells repeatedly in spastic bursts. Her arms flail everywhere as she continues her violent rant. Another relic flies off the shelves. It smashes into a million glass shards that skitter across the floor.
A blaring noise screeches above me.
I jump. It’s impossible not to with the deafening sound. But the piercing shrill has nothing to do with Terease. It’s the fire alarm. She screams one last time before ferociously stomping through the glass, crushing it further, and storms off.
She slams the entrance door shut, no doubt on her way to investigate the fire alarm. My muscles relax into mush, and then I lift my face from the dust to take a clean breath of air. I sneeze—three times. I would’ve been dead if I had done that any sooner.
Sprawled across the dusty shelf top, I listen to the repetitious noise of the alarm. I need time to recuperate from stress, to think, to sleep. More importantly, I need help—from a Seer.
•
By the time I land in Aunt Mona’s living room, I’m starting to feel like a ping pong ball, ricocheting through time. Aching and exhausted, I stumble into her kitchen, leaning on furniture for support along the route. Mona stands at the sink, washing dishes.
“Hey,” I mumble.
Mona spins. “Oh! You scared me!” She holds one hand over her heart and clenches the kitchen countertop with the other. “I thought you were in the shower.” She gives me the once-over with her eyes. “You look like hell!”
“Future me,” I say in explanation. I wave my hand in a small, unenthusiastic arch. I don’t have the stamina for anything more sociable.
“What’s going on?” She dries her hands on a dish towel, then flings it on the counter. Reaching forward, she grabs my forehead like I’m running a temperature. It’s a gesture Ray would never make, partly because he’s a germophobe and partly because it never would’ve occurred to him. That’s why I know I’ve come to the right place—someplace safe, hidden in time.
“I need a place to hide.” Cringing, I wish I had considered my words more carefully. Unsure how she will react, my lips roll in onto themselves, and I look up at her, waiting for her response.
“Aht!” She holds up her hands, palms out. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Not even an inkling!”
“I can’t stay?” Crushed, I drop my gaze to the floor.
“No, that’s not what I said.”
The shower faucet turns off upstairs. We both look upward to the ceiling. My old self is upstairs, preparing to move to the Academy today.
“I need sleep,” I mutter.
“I see that.” She looks annoyed. “Now I’m just going to worry about what you’ll be up to in the future,” Mona chides, pulling me to the stairs. She turns back, holding one finger over her lips, asking for my silence. That won’t be a problem. I barely have enough energy to hoist my feet up each step, let alone open my mouth.
Mona steers me to the door at the end of the hall on the second floor. She quickly throws me inside when the old me exits the bath on the third floor and walks across the creaking floor.
Mona shuts the door behind us and leans me against the wall. My body wobbles, shutting down. She pulls down the bed sheets and fluffs the pillows, then guides me to the bed, where I proceed to collapse. Even in the uncomfortable, kinked position that I’ve fallen, I could sleep.
With great difficulty, Mona rolls me over, straightens my body, pulls off my coat, and then my shoes. She tosses them onto a chair.
“You know your past self is upstairs—right?”
“Yeah, getting ready to move to school,” I whisper.
“Exactly, so don’t leave this room!”
“No. Problem,” the words crawl out.
She pulls dust bunnies from my hair, looking at them in disgust. “You’re absolutely filthy!”
She tugs the covers over my body, placing my arms on top. My hand clenches the tiny box from the archives. Mona doesn’t notice it, or, at least, she doesn’t say anything.
“How many times have you wandered in the last day?”
“Lots,” I grumble.
“You’re running?”
“You said you didn’t want to know.”
“First off, you can’t go wandering all over the place. All those time changes in one day will suck the energy right out of you.” Her hand whips through the air. “It’s called schlag. It’s like exaggerated jet lag.”
“Hmph.” I figured that much out the hard way.
“Secondly,” she admonishes, “whatever trouble you’re in, you should be dealing with it with your team. You know, Max and Sam?” Her brows furrow. “They’re there for a reason, Seraphina.”
I use all my energy to roll over and look away. I don’t want a lecture. Not now.
“Wait,” she considers, grabbing my shoulder, “did something happen to Max or Sam?” Her voice rises with distress.
“No.”
“All right, okay—good.” She composes herself.
“I need your help,” I say, unsure of what her answer will be.
“If you need me as a Seer, I told you, I’m unable to see a relic’s life path the way I used to. As young as she is, Sam would see much further back.”
I sigh out loud, resisting the urge to shut my itchy and watery eyes.
“But if you need me as an aunt, I’ll be here for you.” She rubs my shoulder. “Really, if I could help you with a relic, I would. I promise.”
“Tell me why.”
“I just did. I can barely see across the bedroom, let alone back in time for more than a few hours—days if I’m lucky,” she huffs.
“That’s not what I meant.” I roll back over. “I mean, why can’t you?” My lack of energy makes me petulant.
“Well,” she pauses, looking at the ceiling and back to me. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you in the beginning. I mean—I wasn’t going to discuss it.” Her hands fidget, rolling around in her lap as she contemplates. “But, perhaps the story will help you make the right decision.” She smiles, but sadly.
“Well, let’s see, where to start.” She smoothes down the covers. “Our team started out at the Academy. My teammates were Joseph, my Protector; and Ann, my Wanderer. I was nervous in the beginning. Just being thrown into a situation with two people you don’t know—well, it has challenges.”
I sniff. Boy, she has no idea.
“Well, we weren’t just roommates. We hung out 24/7, like some kind of adolescent mutant family.”
I laugh a little. The phrase “mutant family” coming out of Mona’s mouth just seems weird.
“It’s like you need each other in an unexplained way, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that you get along. Like siblings, we had our fair share of arguments. Still, we needed each other just like a family.
“Anyway, we spent two and a half years at the Academy, and then we attended wandering university together. We experienced so many exciting trips together, learning about history in a way that any Normal would absolutely drool over. Some Normals are lucky enough to backpack through Europe in college; we backpacked through history.” She pauses, seeming to reminisce.
“So, what’s the problem?” Fading quickly, I push for more information.
“Not too long after college, Ann kinda went AWOL. She just up and left, completely disregarding her oaths to the Society of Wanderers and her teammates.
It more or less rendered Joseph and me useless. I guess we could have tried to find another member, but it’s not easy to find the perfect person, a replacement for a sister. It all has to click into place, like fate—destiny—whatever you want to call it. There’s no place for broken teams to go mingle and find a new mate.” She laughs sadly at the thought. “All groups form in their teen years, and they usually stick together for the rest of their lives.”
“You could have done your own thing, meditating on relics. That’s something—right?” My voice slurs.
“I did in the beginning. I was so furious with Ann—I couldn’t let her destroy everything I’d worked for. Seeing had become my life. But then I wondered, what was the point? I wasn’t just a Seer. I was also a guide. And I had no one to guide. I found my life empty without a team. With my skills fading, my reason for being special disappeared.” Mona’s heartbroken voice weakens. She trembles when she speaks again. “Eventually,” I think she pauses to wipe a tear away, “thankfully—I found new things. I have my books. I have my art. I still work for the Society of Wanderers, but now I travel like a Normal. It makes me happy.”
I’m sorry for Mona, and I dislike Ann for abandoning her. My eyes are locked shut. They may have been closed for a while now, but Mona kept talking, knowing I would comprehend. I’ve been responding to her in my sleep.
Mona creeps out of my room, shutting the door behind her. When she stops to talk to the old me in the hallway, I understand now why she seemed so awkward at that moment. I was hiding behind the mysterious door.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Mona says outside my door.
“I’m ready to go, whenever you are.” I hear my old self say. Having two points of view for the same event feels strange. It’s as though I’ve been given a second set of eyes through which to perceive my life.
Their footsteps disappear down the stairs, and I drift further, lost in the unconscious world.
My dreams aren’t my own during Night Classes. We listen to the recordings on the contrapulator even on the weekends. So it’s no surprise when my repressed dreams appear full force, ready to explode.
•
Dense fog churns around me, uncontrolled at first. But slowly, perfect little beacons of light filter through. Stars. Their light burns off the clouds, revealing a clear, midnight-blue sky.
I flex my toes. Sand sifts between them. The cool texture soothes me. The nippy air chills my skin with goose bumps. I run my hand up my arm to rub them away.
I’m back in the desert.
My free hand unexpectedly brushes someone. Though I don’t immediately see the person standing next to me, I know it’s Bishop. He moves closer. The air warms around me, embracing me. I want to reach out and entwine my fingers with his, but I refrain. He’s not mine.
When I glance at him, his jewel-green eyes seem concerned. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone else speaks first.
“Where have you been?” the uptight, childlike voice asks. I turn to answer Sam, who stands a few feet in front of me with her arms crossed.
“I’ve been searching for my mom,” I say apologetically, thinking they will find the thought idiotic.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Bishop asks in a consoling voice.
“We would have understood,” Sam adds. She releases her irritated stance.
“You can trust us.” Bishop places his hand on my shoulder.
“You can,” Sam adds. She grabs my hand and pulls me forward into the night.
We walk together for some time through sand, wheat fields, and plush grass. It’s as though we’re on a journey, although I’m not sure to where. “Are we going someplace?” I ask.
“Yes—there.” Sam’s freckled finger points farther ahead. When I see it, I’m confused. On a long stretch of land sit a million stars, mirroring the sky. The lights twinkle, enticing me.
Mystified, I run toward them, leaving Sam and Bishop behind. My feet sink and slide into the sand, laboring my run. I reach the stars and bend down. My knees dent the soft earth. I reach out to touch the nearest one. When my fingertips brush its warmth, the star levitates from the ground, pulsating like a heartbeat. It’s alive.
“Come look!” I yell back to them, but I hear nothing. I stand up and turn to see their faces. I want to share the moment.
They’re walking toward me, but when I gauge their expressions, they aren’t happy. My head cocks. As I focus, their facial features ripple. The movement, almost unnoticeable at first, increases as they move closer. Their images oscillate, sending wild tremors over their skin. I can’t hide my horror. They’re morphing into something else. Every part of their bodies mutates into a scrambled mess. Repelled by the grotesque scene, I squint my eyes, cup my hands over my mouth, and let out a silent scream.
But I don’t run. I’m too terrified.
The transformation finally decelerates, revealing two people who are not Sam and Bishop.
Mona stands in Sam’s place. She appears dejected. The man standing next her I don’t know, even though I’ve seen him before but only in my mind. His is the face I conjured in my mind for Mona’s Protector, Joseph.
“Where have you been?” Mona asks. Didn’t Sam just ask me that? I’m having some kind of déjà vu.
They’re waiting for an answer, but I don’t know if I can trust Joseph.
“Ann?” Joseph asks.
I look around for Ann, but I don’t see her. “Did you call me Ann?” I ask, confused.
“Of course, it’s your name,” Joseph says. “We’ve been looking for you for years.”
“I’m not Ann,” I assure him.
“Look for yourself,” Mona says, pointing back to the stars on the ground.
When I turn and glance down at them, I don’t just see stars. The surface reflects the face I imagined for the person that hurt Mona—Ann. I’m the person responsible for changing the course of her teammates’ lives with her selfishness. Am I selfish like Ann?
•
I launch into a sitting position, sucking in air, releasing my mind from the curious dream. My fingers grasp the sheets. The miniature box, holding the CeCe relic, falls out of my hand and onto the floor. The dream makes me realize…I need my team. I don’t want to be Ann.
Wander Dust Page 28
