by Jon Davis
I nodded. From what I’d been reading, people around the world were displaced and finding it hard to get back home in almost every country in the northern hemisphere. Gas had run out, shelters were rare, and, as Kirksten had said, there was a medical crisis. In the U.S., things were just beginning to reach what could loosely be considered ‘normal,’ and I had a feeling it was more hope than fact. I did learn that the federal government had moved to a deep bunker. That way, when the effects from Yama’s impact calmed, they could assess the damage and start up again.
At least they had started to get the country back to the business of being a civilization instead of a crazy bunch of people running for their lives. And it wasn’t easy going. But, just the same, organizations like the Red Cross were working hard to get people back home. Gas supply lines were set up to keep vehicles going.
And, as the public returned home, businesses nationwide were starting up again. That was especially important where grocery stores and banks were concerned. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going fast. And there were so many who hadn’t come back.
Now, Angela told me more about how Toronto was going. Canada was apparently in the same situation. People were going home, but it was as slow going as it was here. From talking with her parents, she had found out that much of Toronto was still getting back together as well. Basic services were up yes, but other things, such as colleges were still not open.
I asked, “Oh? Why’s that?”
With a troubled look, she said, “There is so much chaos. So many people are trying to get back to their homes that they’re practically getting in each other’s way. So I thought it would be smart to find a place and wait until the craziness settles down.”
She gestured towards me. “You’ve been lucky. You’re safe from what’s going on. The nurses said you don’t even have an Internet connection? This means you don’t have to worry much about hearing about it either.”
“We’re in a sort of quarantine from it, but I do have this.” I said, holding up the newspaper.
She said, “Oh good, just avoid the Avatar rage going on. People are acting a little bit, uh…”
I said, “Oh, I know how they’re acting!”
I held up the newspaper. The headline read, IS AVATAR ALIVE? WITNESSES DEMAND ANSWERS!
I said, “At a guess? Insane? Crazy? Bonkers? Nuts?”
The story was about someone in Wisconsin claiming to have seen Alex buying a soda at a local gas station. She knew it was the Avatar because the person buying the drink had a glowing aura surrounding him. I might have shrugged that off, but there were more stories attributed to the Avatar. Then the article went on to suggest that Alex be made into a saint. When I first read that part of the article, I groaned aloud at the thought. Alex was anything but religious.
Angela laughed at my joke. But her expression grew serious and she said, “You know, it’s too bad someone hasn’t told them about the real Alex Shaw. I mean, there are so many people who’ve put the poor guy up on a pedestal!”
I sighed with relief. I’d finally found someone who understood my feelings about all the craziness. Eagerly, I leaned forward and said, “I’ve heard so much crap that I’m sick of it. Seriously? Do they really think he’s the second coming of Christ? Whoever’s writing all this needs to get a grip!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wince and grab her forehead. I was about to ask what was wrong when the door opened and Dr. Kular came striding in with a cold look on her face. She said, “That will be quite enough!”
“Whoa, wait, what?” I asked as Kular stood looking down her nose at Angela. Then, before Angela could react, Kular reached into the front pocket of Angela’s smock and pulled out a small object.
Holding it up for me to look at it, I saw that it was a thin white disk, with a silvery mesh-like top. It took me a second to realize that it was some sort of microphone. I said, “Oh, man. You’re a reporter?”
Angela continued to stare at Kular in anger, and then, with a shrug, she looked at me and said, “Sorry, Vaughn. It’s part of the job. If it’s any consolation, you’re very photogenic. That’ll make the rest of that pack outside happy once you begin doing interviews.”
Then Angela’s eyes narrowed as she met Kular's cool gaze and said to her, “And you’re being watched.”
“Yes, we know. Now, leave.” Kular retorted.
With a final nod to me, Angela walked out of the room. Kular stood there a moment longer, and then, she finally let out a palpable sigh of relief. I said, “Okay. I’m guessing you two know each other?”
Dr. Kular sighed and shook her head. Then, moving around the room, she picked out hidden microphones. The doctor found an amazing number of the things. Amazing, because I hadn’t even seen Angela make any moves to hide them during the entire time I had been watching her…okay, maybe she had plenty of time, since I was so distracted. Humph.
Kular said, “I’m sorry you went through that. Angela Tursow is something of a troublemaker. She’s been trying to get near you for a while now. I should have expected this.”
Ah, I took that to mean that Angela must have tried getting in to see me before now, and Kular had turned her down. So, Angela resorted to subterfuge. For some odd reason I found myself terribly disappointed. I liked her.
I sighed. “They’re going to keep coming, aren’t they? I mean, how much longer are we going to be in here? Eventually another reporter is going to pop up and disrupt the staff again. I've seen people being mobbed down near the emergency entrance. What if they cause someone to be seriously hurt because they end up interfering with someone needing help?”
Kular gave me a surprising smile and said, “Actually, that’s what I came to tell you. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about the situation much longer. After some discussions with Dr. Kirksten, I feel that you and Brand have recovered enough. His last scans showed no problems since the incident with the reporter in the bathroom.”
I grinned and said, “Great! Now, if we can just get past the reporters, we’ll be fine. But, reporters or not, at least we can go home!”
Kular coughed and said, “Unfortunately, you will have to deal with reporters there, as well. But as of the week’s end, you and Brand are getting out, just the same. Perhaps you can find a way to deal with them at the memorial.”
I cocked my head to the side and asked, “Memorial?”
Kular gave me a pointed look. “Oh, it hasn’t been brought up? Yes, they’re having a memorial for the Avatar. Your parents didn’t tell you?”
“No…” I said. That was a bit annoying. But it might have a logical explanation. Mom and Dad may have thought that Brand and I were still going to be here. And my mom would know that if they had told me, I would’ve have insisted on going. Brand might not have wanted to go, but I would have. As I thought about the memorial, I realized that it might be a great opportunity for me.
Kular made a point to search around the room once more. She found one more microphone under my bed and put it in her pocket with the others. Looking down at me, she smiled with self-satisfaction and said, “There, that should be all of her little tricks. I’ll get rid of these. And yes, come Friday, you two should be out. And, if I might suggest, perhaps giving the reporters an interview would slake their thirst. Perhaps not, though. American journalists tend to dig in deep with their claws. Especially if it means they can embarrass someone for a story.”
I said, “Oh, fun.”
Kular gave a lighthearted laugh. Then she said, “Don’t worry, Vaughn. You’ll get back to your life soon enough. And I’ll be here to make certain of it!”
With that rather odd comment, she walked out. I stared after her. After days of her acting so uptight, her smiles were kind of creeping me out. But, as to what she’d said about getting out sank in, I jumped out of the chair. I whispered, “Yes, finally!”
Brand didn’t bother whispering. No, he whooped raucously after I told him when he returned. For the rest of the week, we were bouncing off the wa
lls, kept in check only by the final once-over by Dr. Kirksten and Dr. Kular. They were both happy with the results of our latest tests, and told us that everything was normal. The only problem I had was that they asked us to give a few more samples to send to Ryan Tech. They had lost the first batch. Oh yeah, it was easy to see that the professionals were back in charge out there. Bah.
But Kirksten did tell us we could go. When he did, I grinned and said, “Oh, good. I can talk about Alex at that memorial, after all!”
Kirksten grunted slightly. He said, “Good, maybe the reporters will be satisfied.”
Brand, who was on his bed with his knees pulled halfway to his chest said, “I doubt it. But hey, it’s back to living life again, at least!”
Dr. Kirksten smiled and said, “Such as it is. So, Vaughn, do you know what you’ll say about Alex?”
I smiled at the mention of Alex’s name. I didn’t ask how he felt about the situation with the growing Avatar movement, but not once had he used the word. That made me feel better about him both as my doctor and, as time went on, a friend.
In answer to his question, I said, “Oh yeah. I’ve been thinking about it.”
Something in my words made Brand give me a look of suspicion. I looked back at him with a slight smile. After a moment, I said, “You’ll see. Trust me. I’ll know what to say.”
Brand looked at me for a moment, his eyes narrowed with thought. But he said nothing. Dr. Kirksten finished writing up our stats on the digital boards at the end of each bed. He started to leave. On the way out, he said, “Just try not to anger too many people, young man, we don’t need a riot.”
I said, “Oh, I won’t do anything that bad. But I’m done with this crap.”
The door closed, and Brand asked, “What are you up to?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. Brand knew me well enough to know when I was planning something. But honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do just yet. I just knew that someone had to remind everyone that Alex had been a human being.
So I just said, “I’m going to give them what they want. I’m going to tell them about the Avatar.”
“Dude, be careful. People aren’t kidding around about how they feel about Alex. You really could set off a riot.”
I looked at Brand for a few moments before I answered him. “Alex saved the world Brand. That’s great, that’s wonderful. But now people want to turn him into some kind of saint. But saints usually have their scripts written for them by the survivors.”
Giving him a grin, I said, “I plan on doing a revision or two with this script before it even gets written.”
CHAPTER SIX
Attending the memorial proved harder than I expected. On the day we checked out, the reporters were yelling questions as we left the building. But really, they weren’t a problem. No the bigger problem was in actually going to the memorial, thanks to my mom.
Mom and Brand’s father had picked us up from the hospital. And on the way home, I told her I wanted to speak at the memorial. I also asked her why Brand and I were never told about it. Mom said she didn’t want us going to it so she held back that part of the paper. I told her I needed to do it. She was against it, however. Jim Houseman tried to placate us by telling us that there was going to be a more local memorial later on, but that wasn’t good enough for me.
I hadn’t changed her mind by the time we got home. But, things did change, though, when someone from the memorial called for me. They wanted me as one of the speakers. That’s when Dad became involved and told Mom to let me do it. They argued about it until I went to bed. Since my bedroom is in the basement of the house, I didn’t hear any more of their heated exchange.
Nonetheless, I ended up staying awake. I needed to work out what I wanted to say. It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. The words just seemed to flow onto the note cards. It took a long while, though. That left me with hardly any time for sleep. And because the thought of speaking had left me so energized, I finally quit trying to sleep and got up early. I put on a brown turtleneck, black dress slacks, and a pair of dark brown dress shoes. A quick glance in the mirror was enough for me. I looked fine.
When I walked into the living room, I saw that Mom and Dad were awake and ready. My mom seemed to have gotten past the night before. But I did notice that she was acting a bit too cheerful. We finished a breakfast of pancakes and orange juice. The reception after the memorial itself would have food, so we ate lightly.
My mom was still acting edgy as we drove to the high school. Don’t get me wrong; my mom will always let a person know how she feels about things when she gets angry. But on some subjects, she puts on what she calls her ‘game face.’ I knew that she had to do it regularly at the courthouse. She considered it necessary in order to deal with the idiots she called the ‘general public.’ Her words, not mine. That was all she ever said about her job. My mom rarely speaks about the ins and outs of what goes on in court.
This morning, my mom was cheerfully snapping at the traffic as she drove. She seldom did that. She didn’t like the idea of road rage. Smartly, my dad and I said nothing to earn any of her snappy retorts. My dad just looked out his window. Me? I kept busy looking over note cards. Finally, as we neared the high school, I saw the parking lot filled with cars, trucks, news vans, and more than a few limousines.
In a joking tone, I said, “Guess this is a serious event.”
Dad gave me a worried glance over his shoulder, but said nothing as Mom found a place to park. She pulled in and shut off the engine. But before we got out, she turned to look at me. “Honey, I know you crack jokes when you get nervous, but please, don’t do that on stage.”
“I won’t.”
She looked at me for a few seconds more, and then said, “Good enough. Let’s do this.”
We made our way through the crowd of reporters into the high school. On the way in, I noticed that the one reporter that Brand had fought with was in the crowd. We all ignored him. I would have forgotten him completely after that if not for seeing Brand waiting in the hall in front of the cafeteria. I saw his parents. Mom and Dad went to join them after they gave me their coats to hang up in my old locker.
Once we were by ourselves, I said, “Hey I saw your friend the reporter outside, if you want we could set him up to get flushed again.”
Brand laughed and then said, “You are one sick puppy sometimes, you know that right? I think you have been since the day we became friends.”
I chuckled and said, “Oh yeah, if I remember right, I beat you up the day you tried bullying me for my lunch money. Since then, we’ve been best friends since.”
Brand glared at me and said, “You tricked me with that comb! I thought it was a knife!”
I said, “I was six, and you actually thought I had a knife. Dude, could you get any more gullible?”
“Um, shut up. I thought it was a Swiss army or Cub Scout utility knife…”
“I was never a Cub Scout!” I said with a laugh. Brand narrowed his eyes, but he chuckled at the memory.
I stopped laughing when I looked back towards the cafeteria. I saw her again. Walking toward us was the same blond wavy-haired reporter who had tried to talk to me about Alex. Seeing me, she smiled and closed in on us. It took a few seconds for Brand to get what I was staring at. Then he realized who was walking up to us. I had described her pretty well, after all. In fact, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since that night.
She made a gesture of surrender and said, “Vaughn? Sorry, don’t be mad please. I’m only here reporting on the memorial. They’re allowing me inside the gym. But before I head in, I wanted to talk to you quick like. Is that okay?”
Damn, she looked good with that ‘innocent’ look! That just wasn’t fair! I wanted to stay angry with her. I had even contemplated horrible things to say to her about that dirty trick she had pulled.
“I’m sorry. I owe you an apology. All I can say is that I’m just starting out as a reporter, and this is a big st
ory. I got caught up trying to get a news scoop before anyone else.” she said fiendishly. She was good.
Then the evil temptress had the temerity to stick her hand out for me to shake it. “Please, forgive me?”
The vamp! How dare she bat those wide blue eyes at me, melting all my resolve in one quick flash of her shining white teeth? I sighed and took her hand.
I said, “Okay…stick around. You’ll get something, all right. What paper do you work for, Angela?”
Raising a brow, she said, “I’m with the Des Moines Register. So what’cha got?”
I grinned and said, “Take notes.”
She laughed and hugged me quickly, and then, after holding her grasp on my hand for a beat longer than was necessary, she smiled and headed toward the gym. I blinked for a few seconds, wondering what had just happened. I looked at Brand. He looked annoyed and snorted once. I asked, “Okay…what?”
Brand sighed and then groused. “Bastard. Why do you get the girl?”
I looked at him. “Excuse me? What about Nurse Wells? How is she with the sponge baths?”
He turned red, and I laughed as we went into the cafeteria to rejoin our families. We calmed down under the gaze of parental authority. I guess we were a little too rambunctious for the setting. Once I composed myself, I looked around and noticed that there were plasma screen televisions set up throughout the room. Just past the cafeteria’s large picture windows, I could see a satellite television van with people still hooking up lines leading into the school. I saw two more vans in the distance, with broadcast dishes out, pointed, and ready to broadcast.
“You have any thoughts on what to say?” my mom asked. I pulled myself back to where I was and nodded.
I said, “Still working on it. Alex and I weren’t the best of friends. But he was a friend.”
My mom’s brows furrowed as she looked at me. “Okay kiddo, I’m not worried about you embarrassing us; I couldn’t care less about that. I just don’t want to see you hurt. This memorial is going worldwide, and people will remember everything you say. But you only had Alex over a few times. Are you sure you can talk about him well enough?”
