Kind of Like Life

by McMullen, Christina

  She spun around once more, certain that she had heard something that time. When she turned back around, she gasped. Standing in front of her was a large exotic bird that hadn’t been there before.

  “I know you…” Renee gasped, staring into the bird’s unusually human blue-gray eyes. Slowly, she reached out with a trembling hand and allowed the bird to nuzzle her open palm. As the silky feathers brushed her skin, Renee’s eyes shot open. In a fevered rush, all of her memories were once more returned to her.

  “Show me where to go,” she said and jumped to her feet.

  With a curt nod, the phoenix took flight, heading, as Renee had expected, into the darkest, densest part of the forest. As a faint glow appeared in the distance, the illusion of the forest fell away. Soon, she was standing in front of the matrix of her mind. A dark shadow stood out in contrast to the pulsing glow. Renee’s stomach clenched at the sight of Serge Franks controlling her mind as if it was his own.

  As soon as he slipped back into his own mind, Blake ran immediately to the door and yanked it open. Rather, he tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “What the heck?” he grumbled, pulling, pushing, and finally pounding on the door, but still, it remained shut.

  A long, sharp knife materialized in Renee’s hand as she crept forward. Connected to her mind as he was, Serge Franks was completely defenseless. This was it. This was the moment she would be rid of Franks forever. She was going home. All she needed to do was bring the knife down and deliver a fatal blow. As she stood, just inches from him, Renee took a deep breath, raised the knife above her head, and hesitated.

  Renee! What’s going on? Open the door!

  What door?

  The door to let me in!

  Renee turned around at the sound of Blake’s panicked voice. Aside from the glowing matrix of her mind, the void was empty. She closed her eyes and concentrated, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not open a door out of her mind either.

  Blake, I don’t think we’re connected anymore. Franks is in control of my body. I… I just need to… finish the job.

  Renee eyed the blade in her hand with a desperate sigh. She wasn’t a murderer. Her hand shook as she realized the dilemma that faced her.

  Well? What are you waiting for? Kill him!

  It’s not that easy! Renee called back. I’ve never killed someone before.

  Renee, He’s already dead, Blake rationalized. Dr. Gasparo killed him.

  Renee was about to respond when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, but not quickly enough for Franks to grab the knife out of her hand.

  “You’re even weaker than I thought,” Franks growled as he turned her own weapon on her. But before he could strike, Renee saw a flash of brilliant red and orange. Franks let out a string of curses as the phoenix attacked, pecking at his eyes.

  As she ducked out of the way, another brilliant bird, this one maroon and gold, joined in the fight. She turned just in time to see Blake come crashing through the door that suddenly appeared, looking frantic.

  “You’re alive!” he shouted, but stopped short, producing a long sword when he saw Franks.

  “Blake! No!” Renee shouted and grabbed onto his other arm, pulling him back and away from the blur of activity. “Look, they’re saving us.”

  Hand in hand, they turned back to Franks and watched in awe as something extraordinary happened. The two phoenixes each let out a loud war cry as they circled faster and faster around the man. Moving toward, and eventually into one another, they melded together, growing until they became a towering pillar of flames. The two teens turned away and held each other, trying to block out the horrific screams as Franks’ body disappeared into the blinding blaze. At last, the screams ceased and the thunderous roar of the flames faded away, leaving only a small pile of ash where the man had been.

  “Is… is he gone?” Blake asked tentatively.

  Renee lifted her head from Blake’s shoulder and slowly looked down. The remaining pile of ash was swept away by a gentle breeze.

  “Yeah,” she said, looking back up at Blake with a weak smile as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed in relief. “He’s gone!”

  Just to be safe, the two went together into Blake’s mind. Only once they were certain that Serge Franks was truly dead did they return to their own minds and prepare to return to their own bodies.

  “They’re coming back.”

  Renee’s heart pounded and her eyes flew open at the sound of Dr. Grantham’s voice. Both he and Dr. Gasparo stared down at her with hopeful anticipation. As she caught her breath, she felt a hand on hers and looked over to see Blake smiling at her.

  Say something to let these poor doctors know it’s you.

  “It’s done,” she gasped, still weak from the uncomfortable transition back into her body. “Serge Franks is dead. Blake used our connection to tell me to tell you that.”

  Both doctors turned to Blake who smiled and gave them a shaky thumbs-up. Visibly relieved, Dr. Grantham began shutting down the bank of computers. Dr. Gasparo came over to Renee’s side and took her hand, smiling as he did.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly as tears shimmered in his eyes. “Deborah’s strength is returning. I can’t thank you enough for returning her to me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Renee replied with a smile.

  “I owe you a debt of gratitude as well,” Dr. Grantham said, coming over to remove the sedative drip from her arm. “The both of you,” he added with a nod to Blake. “I’m the reason you both ended up in this situation and I intend to take full responsibility. The Department of Justice has been informed and their representatives are on their way.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Blake said from the other bed.

  “We’ll tell them what really happened,” Renee added.

  “Oh, I have no doubt that they will want to talk with both of you and for that, I’ll apologize in advance,” he assured her with a wry look, unhooking the electrodes from her head. “But until then, get some rest,” he demanded lightly, adding with a smile, “Your parents will be arriving shortly.”

  Chapter 30

  Renee sat at her vanity mirror, applying a second layer of thick, goopy, concealing makeup to her face. It was a highly rated, and rather expensive, professional brand, made specifically to cover heavy scarring. Her therapist had recommended the products, suggesting that they might provide her with enough of a confidence boost that in time, she might begin to feel normal. While collagen treatments had minimized their appearance somewhat, not even the makeup could erase the scars completely.

  But Renee had doubts that she would ever feel normal again. Usually, she didn’t bother with the makeup, opting instead to wear big hats, sunglasses, and scarves that would cover her completely. That is, if she absolutely had to leave the house. Despite her therapist’s best efforts, Renee’s lifelong shyness had turned into full-blown social anxiety after her experiences and having her face disfigured certainly did not help. Most of the time, she simply hid herself away in her room. But today was the first day of classes and much to her dismay; first year university students could not take online courses. Reluctantly, she had to accept that she couldn’t hide forever.

  Thinking back to how traumatized she had been about losing her leg nearly made her laugh. Sure, it made her life a lot more difficult, but the prosthetic leg the government provided was state of the art. Not only did it look and feel like a normal leg, but there was also a spring loaded ankle joint that flexed as she walked, allowing for a more natural gait. After several months of physical therapy, she was still much slower than she had been with two legs, but she no longer relied on her cane, and hardly anyone noticed the difference.

  No, losing her leg wasn’t anywhere near as traumatic as losing the ability to be out in public without drawing harsh stares from strangers. She felt ashamed when she thought about how much she had hated her plain, ordinary looks. She would give anything to be ordinary again. Oft
en, she would bitterly reminded herself that she had gotten exactly what she wished for, but like the cautionary fairy tales from her youth, she had failed to consider the consequences of her heart’s desire.

  She wrapped a headband around her short, unintentional pixie cut, carefully arranging the band so that it covered the knotted skin at her temple that not even the makeup could conceal. Not for the first time, she missed her long, heavy curtain of hair. Her usual side swept bangs would have easily covered the hideous, mottled flesh, but in the few months since her rescue, her hair had only grown a couple of maddening inches.

  Finishing her hair, Renee stood up and studied her appearance. Despite the heavy makeup, she still felt exposed. She added a pair of large framed sunglasses and smirked, knowing that if Blake had been there, he would tell her she looked like a giant bug.

  “Stop that,” she told herself as her mood sank and tears threatened to smudge the makeup she so carefully applied. It had been nearly two weeks since she had last heard from Blake. He had told her that he would be a little busy for a while, but he didn’t tell her why. She had hoped that he would have called or at least texted to wish her good luck with college, but he did not even do that. It was getting harder not to assume the worst: that he was moving on in his life and there was no room for Renee in it.

  They barely had a chance to tell each other goodbye in New Mexico. By the time Renee finally regained her strength, the facility had been swarming with government agents. She and Blake were each taken to separate rooms and asked to describe their experiences. Not long after that, her parents were brought in and she learned that Blake had already been airlifted to a rehabilitation facility in Seattle where he would be reunited with his grandparents.

  The Department of Justice, at least, acknowledged that they were primarily responsible for what had happened, noting that the lack of oversight and communication was partially to blame for allowing Franks to get control of Dr. Grantham’s body. Because of this, Renee and Blake, as well as their families, were provided with as much compensation as was available, including the costs of rehabilitation, psychiatric assistance, and family trauma counselling. They even offered to pay the relocation costs when Renee’s mother voiced concerns about the difficulties of remaining in the area. All that was asked in return was that they not discuss what had actually happened with anyone, especially the media.

  Of course, there was the complication of explaining how two teenagers had come back from the dead. For Blake, it was a little easier. Because few people in Washington knew what had happened in New Mexico, he essentially returned as a different version of the same person. He had his last name officially changed to Harris, which was his grandparents’ last name and would have been his, if his father had survived. The government took care of quietly correcting the erroneous death certificate and reinstated his social security status without drawing any unwanted attention. Certainly, there would be people in New Mexico who might notice a strange similarity between Blake Harris and Blake Carter, but he had no intention of going back to Albuquerque under any circumstances.

  For Renee, it wasn’t as simple. The official story was that after she had been pronounced dead and her body was rushed to a research facility, it was discovered that she was still alive, but a clerical error had misidentified her. It wasn’t until after she awoke from her coma that the doctors were able to properly identify her and notify her family. This version of events, as expected, caught the attention of the media. Fortunately, Renee’s parents fielded all of the questions, simply repeating over and over that they were happy to discover their daughter’s miraculous recovery and had no intention of seeking further compensation from the hospital or research agency.

  Because of her unusual circumstances, Renee was allowed to finish her senior year in private via internet coursework. She was only required to go to the school for exams and even then, she was allowed a private room. A few of her friends had tried to visit a couple of times, but seeing their unspoken horror at her scarred appearance was unbearable and soon she was making excuses as to why she could not hang out with them. Though her parents were quite understanding of her anxieties and fears, they were worried that Renee’s further withdrawal from social interactions might negatively affect her transition into college.

  When it came time to make her decision about college, Renee chose Humboldt State, a school in northern California, close to Eureka, where her aunt and uncle lived. The government was covering the cost of tuition and also provided a generous stipend for housing and any additional expenses incurred because of her disability, but she felt safer having family nearby. Aside from her aunt and uncle, her parents had decided relocation was in everyone’s best interest and already her mother had an offer from a school in Santa Cruz, which was just a few hours south of where she would be. Of course, the beach and giant redwood trees also drew her to the area, but if Renee was being honest, there was another reason she chose the remote school in the far reaches of northern California. She was still more than a day’s drive from Piper’s Bend, but it was a lot closer than Albuquerque had been.

  Aside from her therapist, Blake was the only person that Renee felt comfortable opening up to. Her parents had been informed of what had happened to her, of course, but she knew that they couldn’t comprehend everything that had happened, and to be honest, she didn’t want to burden them with that information. With Blake, she could talk openly about her fears as well as her hopes. They had spent the whole time he was in recovery emailing each other and talking on the phone whenever they could. The two weeks that had passed since they last spoke hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

  With a glance at the clock, Renee saw that it was only seven thirty. Her first class wasn’t until nine o’clock. She sat down on her bed and reached for her laptop, thinking she would use the time to see if Blake had sent her a message, but hesitated. Instead, she gathered her bag and her keys and decided to get used to being among crowds of people again. But as she started to leave, she caught her reflection in the mirror on the back of the door and stopped.

  “This isn’t me,” she sighed, frowning at the unnaturally tan and contoured face that stared back. With a sigh, she dropped her bag back onto her bed and went back into the bathroom.

  Five minutes later, she patted her face dry and looked in the mirror again, feeing oddly exhilarated as she smiled at the flawed, scarred, and slightly red, makeup-free face staring back. Sure, people would stare and there might even be a few who would make insensitive comments, but as high school had taught her, those people would exist no matter what she looked like.

  Still, she left the headband, covering the worst of the scarring, but rationalized that she didn’t want to have to redo her hair. As she walked out of the dormitory, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. With a quick glance to make sure that no one was coming up behind her, Renee pasted a wide smile onto her face and snapped a quick selfie. Feeling impulsive, she sent a text to Blake that read, “Wish you were here,” and attached the picture, hitting send before she could talk herself out of it.

  Not more than a minute later, Renee heard her phone chime, indicating that she had a reply. As she opened the message, Renee stopped dead in her tracks. All he had written back were two words:

  Wish granted.

  Blake leaned against a bike rack outside the student union and tried to steady the beating of his heart as he scanned the crowds milling about for a familiar face. He had just taken a picture of himself and had planned on surprising Renee with a text when he received her message first. He must have stared at her face for nearly a full minute before sending his reply; a picture of himself, smiling, with the student union in the background. It was the first time that she had sent him a picture where she wasn’t hiding her face with layers of makeup or huge accessories. Blake paid no mind to the scars that marred her lovely features. All that he noticed was the big, beautiful smile that he had missed more than anything in the world.

  Return
ing to Piper’s Bend had been bittersweet. His grandparents were of course, overjoyed to have him back in their lives, but understandably shaken by the circumstances in which he returned. It was difficult to ignore how much they had aged in the eight years since he saw them last. Blake suspected the news of his death had been more responsible for this than the passage of time. As he had expected, Blake’s mother never made an effort to contact them after his supposed death. Jean and Marty Harris had to find out that their only grandson had died through the erroneous news stories, which had depicted him as a violent and unstable delinquent.

  Of course, he often thought about his mother, which was a source of much pain, anger, and confusion. His therapist had been instrumental in helping him reconcile his emotions, allowing him to separate them and understand why each was as important as the rest. Still, his guilt would at times haunt him in the form of nightmares. During the worst of times, it was Renee who kept him grounded in reality, reminding him that he shouldn’t beat himself up over a situation that he had no control over. Over the past two weeks, it had been difficult not to break down and call her. He wanted to. Several times he almost did, but when he saw the picture she sent, especially the smile that he had missed so much, he knew his patience had been worth it.

  Renee’s breath hitched and her eyes went wide as she turned the corner to the student union, unable to believe what she was seeing. Blake stood just a few yards from her, scanning the crowd as if he was looking for someone. When his eyes found hers, they lit up like Christmas trees, competing only with his wide smile for brilliance. He practically ran the remaining distance between them, throwing his arms around her as he lifted her off of her feet.

  “My god, Renee, I’ve missed you so much,” he said in a voice thick with emotion.

  “I missed you too,” she said breathlessly, clinging to him as if he would disappear.

  At last, she took a step back to take in the sight of him, still unable to believe he was really there. He was still thin, but instead of the gaunt boy she remembered from the hospital, he had become a lean, muscular man. His blue gray eyes sparkled as he smiled at her.