by Dena Nicotra
I was left alone in front of a large mahogany desk. A dark figure sat behind it obscured in the green light thrown off by a banker’s lamp. I could tell that it was a man, but I could not make out the features of his face. He wore a black hat and his head was bent slightly behind a book he held in his hands. His feet were positioned comfortably up on the desk.
“Take a seat Joey,” he said without looking up. I glanced around at the collection of clocks that seemed to dominate the décor.
“I don’t plan on staying,” I said flatly. I really meant it too. Why did I come here? I should have seen this coming. I should have at least had an idea of what I was facing here! As if he didn’t even hear me he said,
“Time’s an interesting thing, don’t you agree? I don’t know how you can weave and read at the same time.” I promptly sat. Whoever this guy was, he knew more about me than I could have imagined. A fact I didn’t like already. Despite that, he most definitely had my attention. He put the book down and whispered “drivel” before casting his eyes on me. It was only then that I realized the book was Wuthering Heights. It didn’t feel like a coincidence.
“My manners are atrocious. I am Kessler, you can call me Kess,” he said as he moved around the desk toward me. Without thinking, I stood up and backed away from him. There was no place to go, and I found myself with my back to the door of his office. The tick-toc of the clocks pounded in my ears.
His movements were fluid as he continued toward me. “Why may I ask are you so tense?” He placed his hands on either side of me and leaned them on the door so that I was caught between his arms, our faces only inches apart. His warm breath on my cheeks made my mind race.
“I-I, don’t understand why I am here.” I sputtered. I was caught off guard by the depth of his piercing eyes. A shade of brown so dark they almost seemed black. His lashes were thick and long. I felt a flush rise from my toes to my face. There was something oddly warm about him - yet equally cold and frightening. His black bowler hat brushed my forehead as he sucked in air slowly between his teeth. He lowered his face to the side of my neck and breathed in deeply.
“You smell like summer,” he whispered. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my knees felt like melted butter. I ducked under his arm before he had a chance to do anything else.
“Listen, Kessler,”
“Kess,” he corrected, with a crooked smile.
“Kess, I don’t know who you are or who Lela is and I don’t know why you wanted me to come here.” I blurted and turned my body slightly so that I could continue to back up until I bumped the back of my head into a tall Ficus plant that stood in the corner. He had moved to position himself against one of the guest chairs next to his desk. A smile now playing out across his lips. I tried to focus on something tangible and noticed that his right forearm was tattooed with a red star. Long strands of chocolate brown hair fell from beneath his hat and he pushed them from his face absently as he spoke.
“You can relax. I don’t mean you any harm,” he said smoothly.
“Who are you? How did you know where I…live?” I demanded, annoyed at how weak my voice sounded. There was a lifetime passing in the moment it took for him to reply.
“I told you, we have lots to talk about,” his eyes sparkled with interest and I crossed my arms again. A gesture I hoped conveyed some level of control in this situation. “Will you at least sit down?” He spread his arms to indicate his willingness to compromise and gestured to the chair next to him. I hesitated, and then a delicious glow of warmth filled me as I heard that small voice that I trusted. “It’s okay Joey. You need to hear what he has to say.” I shivered and tried to collect myself. As much as I enjoyed hearing that voice, I didn’t want to share it with this guy, and concentrating on the two of them wasn’t easy.
Again, the smile stretched out across Kessler’s face. I wanted to trust Kalan, but my gut said something different. My own small voice was screaming for me to run. I didn’t though. I took a seat and crossed my legs. “Talk to me,” I said with a huff, and hoped I appeared to be in control.
“Oh, I think I could do that all night long…or maybe we would find other, more amusing things to do.” He said and twisted the small piercing that jutted out from his lip. I repositioned myself in the chair and crossed my arms, hoping my chilly disposition gave him a direct response.
“Or not,” he said and sighed. I just wanted to learn what I could from him and get myself back to my apartment. Kessler leaned back in his chair, rocking it on two legs. “I’m going to tell you this much, for a weaver you sure seem fragile. Or maybe it’s an act. Is it an act?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said blandly. Weaver? He was using the same word that Kalan had used. I felt like running. What if my ability was what he was after? What if he was dangerous? I’d been so stupid to come here! I felt like a lamb in a slaughter house. This thought pierced me with alarm. Without further hesitation I closed my eyes. I needed to arrange. Undo. Stop this! I focused on my apartment. I focused on the relaxing shower I had taken earlier. I was literally concentrating on the hot and cold knobs. In a blink, I was standing in my shower stall. Oh thank you Jesus, it had worked! My hand steadied on the hot water knob, just as I had envisioned. Relief saturated my bones. I had done it.
“Do you want a towel?” The voice came from the other side of the foggy shower door. I screamed and covered myself as the towel flew over the top of the stall and landed on my head. I wrapped myself in the soft cloth and cracked open the door to find Kess standing there like a dark knight, leaning against the towel rack. I should have been embarrassed but the whole situation was just too surreal to absorb.
“I told you we had lots to discuss,” he said in a voice that could have melted butter.
“This isn’t happening! You followed me?” I said, my voice sounding more like a high chirp.
“Well, you gave me no choice. So, where was I?” He added casually, as if he’d been interrupted by some minor distraction.
“Can you go out so I can change?” I snapped.
“Don’t change a thing love” he said and winked at me.
“Out!” I screeched.
He shut the door behind himself and I scurried to dry off. Why hadn’t I thought to put myself on the couch with the remote in my hand? Who was this guy? With wobbly fingers, I pulled my robe from the back of the door and walked out. I could hear the television so I knew he was not in my adjacent bedroom. As if it mattered, I moved quickly across the room to lock the door. Next, I snatched a pair of jeans and a red tank top from my dresser and scurried into them. I felt like he was watching; and I felt somehow that he could be, if he had a mind to. Good Lord, what had I gotten myself into? I was so tired and more than a little tense.
“Are you alright?” He said softly as I came to sit at the opposite end of the couch.
“I’m anything but alright!” I spat.
“Joey, I am sorry. I had no way of knowing you were heading for the shower when you threaded.” His expression looked genuine, and I felt myself relenting a little.
“It was the last place I could think of.” I said reluctantly before adding “you make me nervous.” I bit my lip. It was the honest truth, but it was more than that. He made me feel short of breath and looking at his face made my chest ache. I looked down at his hands. My momma always said that you could tell a lot about a man by his hands. If they were rough, he worked hard for a living. If they were soft, he was either educated or lazy. His hands looked neither soft nor rough. I just couldn’t tell.
What I did notice was that the first knuckle of every finger was tattooed. Then I noticed the thick silver ring on his left thumb. It was inset with tiny clear stones. My eyes traveled up further and I noticed his arms. The red star that I had noticed earlier caught my eye again – then my eyes trailed further to his biceps. A castle tattooed with purple and grey ink was on the right. The left sported a massive black dragon. Focusing any place beyond his eyes seemed to help.
A little. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Several moments of silence passed between us before he spoke.
“So Joey, how long have you known?”
“Known what?”
“That there were others like you here.”
“Not long.” I said hesitantly. I was really trying not to share too much. I decided it best to let him do the talking. Besides, he was the one who called this meeting not me.
“I’m going to guess that you had some help.” His right eyebrow raised in question.
“Help?” I questioned. I was dying to know what he knew about Kalan, but I was not going to say that. As my Papaw would say, I was playing my cards close to the vest.
“You really are cute. I mean, to come so far from home and be so naïve. It touches me.”
He placed his hand on his heart and patted it. “So you are looking for something, but are you ready to find it?”
“I think I am.” I said with confidence.
“I think you are bluffing.” He said with a crooked smile. “You really don’t know what you are doing at all, do you?” He asked gently.
This was my chance. Either I could give him the truth or I could act like I didn’t know what he meant. The truth was, I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t read a thing about him any more than I could Lela. I couldn’t see anything coming, I couldn’t even be sure that I knew what I wanted from him. I did know this much – he could change things too. Something that I had secretly hoped for my whole life. Some insight into why I could do what I could do. I also knew that Kalan wanted me to listen to him, and for now… that was enough.
“You can do what you do because you are a Weaver Joey.”
“You can hear what I think?” I asked, self-consciously.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Kess said genuinely.
“I can always read when I’m in the middle of a thread. Just as you can.”
“But I can’t read minds directly like you obviously can, and I can’t read anything about you. Why did you call me a Weaver? What do you mean by ‘in the middle of a thread’?
“You really are alone aren’t you?” He said with a grin.
“My abilities are…”
“Undeveloped.” He finished.
“I don’t know that they are undeveloped.” There, he’d done it. I was officially insulted. “I’d say I’ve done pretty well. I got myself here didn’t I?” Oh yeah. I felt defensive. If this stranger was going to challenge my abilities, he’d better think twice. I could take care of myself.
He smiles intimately. “Of course you can take care of yourself. Concentrate Joey. When you don’t want me to read you, you need to block with separate thought threads. You do seem to have that ability to some extent because you’re not always wide open. I can teach you everything you need to know about being a Weaver. In fact, that’s why I am here. It is a calling to share the skills of our sacred work. Every weaver has a mentor. Someone who is selected by time itself to nurture the development of another weaver.”
“Are you saying that time chose you to teach me?” He nods.
“That is exactly what I am saying. You were drawn to me for that reason, and I to you.” I just knew my cheeks were bright red. I pasted a polite smile on my face and tried not to think about the way his eyes drank me in. So, he was to be my teacher. Okay Kalan, I’ll go with this for now. I thought to myself.
I cleared my throat. “Separate thought threads huh? Do you mean like think of something else at the same time?” I figured that Kalan must be doing something to help me with that aspect, or this conversation wouldn’t be happening. What the heck did I know about creating separate thought threads? My regular thoughts were scattered like leaves on the wind most of the time!
“Uh-huh.” His expression appeared full of regret before he regained his composure. I immediately thought of my Papaw, then his old truck. The devious expression on his face informed me that I’d figured it out. One small triumph for Jo-Jo girl!
I made a quick decision to try to find out more while I had the courage. “Is that the only reason why am I here?” I asked tentatively. If he was truly that much stronger than me, there wouldn’t be anything I could do about it. He would already know things beyond what I wanted to share.
“I was hoping to that learn from you.”
“You mean you can’t read everything?” I asked with sarcasm.
“I know that you are looking for something.” He mused. I gathered that he did know to some extent why I was here. Maybe this was all a part of the plan. I had been alone with my crazy abilities for so long. A part of me was simply grateful and more than a little exhausted. I sighed and prepared to spill my guts.
“I am looking for something as a matter of fact.” I was about to ask him about Kalan, but before I could open my mouth again, I was stopped by a loud shout that seemed to echo between my ears. I knew it was only in my mind, but it took all of my composure to keep from jumping. “DON’T TELL HIM!” I scrubbed my face with the palms of my hands, before looking up at him. “I-I, don’t’t really understand why I felt like I had to come here.” That was partly true anyway. “I’m just looking for information on what made me like this.” I blurted.
Kessler beamed. “You, my dear girl have the power to weave the intricate patterns of life.” He said this with pride gleaming in his eyes. “The heredity of weavers made you like this, but I will teach you how to maximize your ability.”
“There’s one question that I need to ask,” I said with some hesitation. I wanted to ask a thousand actually, but then how would that work out with my smug determination not to look so ignorant about it all? Satisfaction filled his eyes. “Ask anything you like.”
“Are there consequences?” Kessler looked away before he answered softly. “Sometimes.” I let that answer sit all by itself. I had to, or I’d start spewing more questions like a geyser. Besides, I was truly and utterly exhausted. I covered my mouth to stifle a yawn. “Clearly, there are things that you could teach me,” I said.
“You will be my student; my protégé’ if you wish.” With that, he stood, removed his hat and bowed. “It will be my honor to teach you.” I was caught off guard by his statuesque posture. His black pants, white t-shirt and suspenders made him look like a sexy, dangerous mime…and a part of me wondered if I wasn’t about to trap myself in a small imperceptible box.
“We’ll start tomorrow. For now, I need to get back to the club. I’d invite you to come back with me, but I think that you need some sleep.”
“I do. I’m absolutely dog-tired.”
“Understandable. What do you think, 10:00 a.m. tomorrow?”
I-I guess,” I stammered.
“I’ll meet you here.”
Before I could say another word, he was gone. It was as if he had never been there at all. A part of me felt like I had blinked and missed his departure. So that’s what it felt like to watch a change in progress. How totally…weird. As tired as I was, it was only 6:00 and my mind wasn’t ready to unplug just yet. Instead of going straight to bed, I spent some time reading and then called my Momma. Mamaw was heavy on my mind and I hated the thought of her wandering around our house like a misplaced guest.
“She’s alright honey, she’s just been so happy to watch your sister practice her routines, and she even went with me to the market yesterday.” Momma said this last part as if it were some major venture.
“Well, can I talk to her?” Momma paused and then called out “Josephine, pick up the extension – it’s Joey callin’ from California.” I heard momma sigh and I could tell that she was struggling with having another woman in the house, but she’d never say it.
“Hello?” I heard the familiar crackle of my Mamaw’s voice and my heart ached. Momma made a quick excuse about cleaning up the dinner dishes and then she hung up her end.
“Hi Mamaw, how are you?” I asked softly.
“Oh I’m fine baby girl, just waiting for your Papaw to come back for me and then I’l
l be getting’ out of your momma’s hair here.” She laughed nervously.
“I see. Well, I sure miss you.” I choked back the tears that made my voice quaver, but I couldn’t stop them from silently sliding down my cheeks.
“Oh punkin, I miss you too, and I can’t tell you how proud your Papaw and I are of you.”
“Thank you Mamaw, that means a lot to me.”
“Now, don’t you go getting all soft on me child. You are going to make something of yourself with that education. You just focus on those grades. We’ll be here when you come home.”
“Okay Mamaw I will. I’ll call again next week.” I added and then I heard her hang up the phone. She was slipping away without him. The thought of my Mamaw tagging along with my momma to the grocery store just made me even sadder. What kind of life was that? I allowed myself to breakdown and really cry. With the power of a super hero, you would think that I would have some way to just fix all of this. I could speed forward into time, or race backwards but that wouldn’t guarantee a fix, and it wouldn’t explain the time in between.
I had to fight myself through another argument to try to change things and it was a fight I almost lost. The only thing that stopped me was the exhaustion I built up from crying. I wrapped myself up in a soft quilt and wandered to my weaved bedroom, in my weaved apartment, and plopped my weaver body onto my bed. Stupid. The whole thing was stupid! I was out of my comfort zone by a country mile and there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about that. In the meantime, my Mamaw was suffering the consequences of my “gift” and I couldn’t do anything about that either!
Oh great mysterious, (sexy ) voice in my head where are you now when I need you? I flipped my pillow over to the cool side and curled up in a fetal position. Some great super powers! I could change things that “sometimes” had consequences. Well, I knew about that part already! Why didn’t I ask some other question like, “what is the meaning of it all?” Why didn’t I at least ask him more than one question? Lord knows I could have squeaked out at least one more! I was worse than a witch riding a vacuum cleaner instead of a broom!
