Forever Young (The Forever Land Chronicles)

by Sawyer Bennett

  The secretary looked up at the man and recognized him. Her face split into a huge smile which he returned. He looked very kindly, I suppose, with this snow white hair styled in a sleek pompadour and twinkling blue eyes. His face was lined with age but he looked spry and fit. He was actually very striking. Part grandfather, part metropolitan businessman. And this was no cop, I was most positive.

  "Go right in, Mr. Jennings. He's expecting you."

  "Thank you, Gloria. You’re looking as lovely as ever."

  I almost gagged when I heard her giggle in response. I'm sorry, but sixty year old high school secretaries had no business giggling...about anything...ever!

  I hurriedly wiped the disgusted look off my face when Sebastian Jennings turned his blue peepers my way, running them shrewdly over me from head to toe. I returned his stare and didn't flinch, but my heart was pounding hard. I had a feeling this man was going to seal my fate, one way or another. He gave me a curt nod and then disappeared inside Dr. Tinesdale's office.

  Snick. Snick. Snick. That was the stupid sound the damned clock made. It really wasn't a "tick tock" sort of sound. It was the same...snick, snick, snick. Maddening, really. I watched the second hand snick away the seconds, which turned into minutes, which turned into almost a full hour. What in the world could they be discussing? Surely if it was a matter of having me arrested, it would have been done by now.

  My imagination, which had always been infinite, started running away. What if he headed up an organization of secret slavers and Dr. Tinesdale was selling me off? Or, what if he was a long, lost uncle that was coming to tell me I had inherited a fortune? I actually snorted to myself over that one. Ridiculous, Charlie.

  My rampant thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when the door to Dr. Tinesdale's office opened. I saw him stick his head out and look at me. "Come on in, Charlie."

  I stood and found my knees were slightly shaking. I squared my shoulders and pushed my chin up. I might be quaking on the inside, but I couldn't show any fear on the outside. I entered the office and saw Sebastian Jennings standing at the window, looking outside. He turned when I entered and gave me a smile.

  Dr. Tinesdale put his hand lightly on the middle of my back and steered me over to the other man. "Charlie. I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Sebastian Jennings."

  He held his hand out for me to shake and I took it. I glanced down as our hands locked, noting he had age spots dotting the back of his hand. He pumped our digits firmly in greeting.

  Dr. Tinesdale continued. "Sebastian. This is Charlotte Wright, but she goes by Charlie. She is one of our rising stars here."

  I was startled by Dr. Tinesdale's voice. It was full of pride and something else I tried to put my finger on. Sadness? Regret? This did not bode well. My attention was brought back to Sebastian Jennings. He released my hand and indicated to a chair. "Please sit down, Charlie. We have a lot to talk about."

  I took the chair he indicated, and he sat in an identical one angled beside it. Dr. Tinesdale walked back around his desk and sat down. He looked nervous, and that, in turn, made me nervous.

  "What's going on Dr. Tinesdale?" I tried to make my voice sound vaguely interested but I'm sure it came off as pleading.

  Dr. Tinesdale cleared his throat. "Charlie. You are an exceptionally bright young woman and I sincerely had high hopes for you..."

  He sort of trailed off, not sure what to say. When Dr. Tinesdale could not come up with the right words, it was definitely time to be worried. I mean, the man had words upon words in his brilliant head. I should know. I'd sat through enough of his lecturing over the past few years.

  I didn't wait around for the hatchet to fall. Springing out of my chair, and sparing no drama, I clasped my hands in supplication and launched into an impassioned plea not to send me away.

  "Dr. Tinesdale, please let me apologize for my actions. I am so sorry. I was truly only trying to protect that girl. I see how stupid I was now, but please, you cannot turn me over to the authorities. I promise I can change."

  My voice was rising with every word I uttered. If I got sent away as a juvenile offender, I could kiss any chance of college goodbye. College was my ticket out of dependency on a broken system.

  I looked at Dr. Tinesdale but his head was hanging low, shaking back and forth, denying my words. "I'm so sorry. But I don't believe this is the place for you to be right now."

  I seriously thought I might have a full blown anxiety attack. My chest started getting tight and my breathing shallow. I looked over at Mr. Jennings, who was watching me with curiosity. He must have taken note of the pallor of my skin or my uneven breathing, because he stood up and crossed over to me.

  "We're scaring the girl, Steve."

  He reached out and grasped my upper arms lightly in reassurance. "You have nothing to worry about, Charlie. You are not going to jail. In fact, I am actually going to make you a very nice offer that will secure you the brightest of futures." He had spread his arms wide, indicating the world was my oyster.

  All I could say was..."Huh?" Real intelligent, Charlie.

  Mr. Jennings pointed back at the seat I had just vacated. "Sit back down. Let me explain."

  After I took my seat, Mr. Jennings perched his hip on the edge of the desk, facing me. "Charlie...Dr. Tinesdale brought you to my attention a few weeks ago. He was concerned over the amount of fights that you were getting into and the dangerous situations you always seem to find. He has been very worried about you."

  I glanced from Mr. Jennings over to Dr. Tinesdale, who was watching me with fondness. This is so not how I thought this meeting would be going. I was intrigued but wary.

  "I really am very sorry about the fight a bit ago. I was only trying to help," I offered lamely.

  "Exactly!" Mr. Jennings exclaimed loudly and I actually jumped in my seat. You’d think I had just answered the million dollar question.

  "Your fights all seem to be born over a desire to help. Maybe you have a hero complex, or maybe it's just because you are the sole survivor of a brutal home invasion, but whatever the reasons, it's created a desire...no, I'd dare say it's a need...for you to help those that are weaker than you."

  Whoa! Wait a minute. How dare this guy get all up in my psychiatric business? He didn't need to tell me that the reasons I courted danger and picked fights were because of the things that had happened to me in the past. I'd had plenty of therapy sessions about this issue. And why did he even know this personal stuff? I was about to open my mouth to object to his theories, or rather, his casual use of such personal theories, when he cut me off.

  "Charlie...I recruit for an organization that develops people like you, so that you can continue to fight against all the wrongs that are in this world. We would like you to come train with us, so that you can continue to protect those that can't protect themselves."

  I know my mouth was hanging open and that I looked pretty dumb just staring at him like that. But I was stunned speechless. I thought I was going to get arrested and apparently I was being offered a job? And a job that he made sound so....so...noble. Virtuous. Heroic. Could this get any weirder?

  "I don't understand," was all I could manage to choke out. "Is this a government position?"

  Mr. Jennings gave a soft chuckle. "No, we are not part of the government. Although, we do contract with various governmental agencies quite a bit. Our services are actually in high demand right now."

  "And what type of services are we talking about? Who would I be fighting?"

  This conversation still did not sound real to me. Maybe I was actually dreaming and would have a good laugh at myself when I woke up. If a unicorn with a rainbow shooting out its butt came running by, I would know it was definitely a dream.

  A mischievous gleam appeared in Mr. Jennings' eyes. "Ahhhh... my dear, I bet if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. No. It is much better that I show you what we are about."

  At this point, Dr. Tinesdale stood up from his desk and walked over to me. I a
utomatically stood up to face him. He grabbed my hands in his, and stared earnestly into my eyes. "Charlie. I know this is weird, but I have been working with Mr. Jennings a long time. You can trust him. I think you should give him a chance."

  "All I need is twenty-four hours of your time, Charlie. And I believe I can convince you that we are the perfect organization for you."

  My head was spinning as I looked at Dr. Tinesdale. "If I don't want to stay with Mr. Jennings, will I be welcome back here?"

  Smiling at me, Dr. Tinesdale nodded his head. "Of course. You are always welcome here. But I think your calling is somewhere else."

  He looked so wise. He clearly knew something I did not, and I was beginning to get very curious about this new opportunity being laid before me.

  "Okay. I'll give it a shot." I attempted a confident smile. I know it failed miserably.

  Mr. Jennings stood from his chair, obviously pleased with my decision. He headed for the door. I turned one more time to look at Dr. Tinesdale. I didn't know if this was goodbye forever, or if I would see him the next day. He seemed to sense my need for some type of reassurance and leaned over to give me a quick hug.

  "No matter what you decide, Charlie, I know that you are destined for great things. So, whether this is goodbye, or see you later, you still control your own destiny, which will be great in my estimation."

  Oh, how those words warmed me and infused me with confidence. Dr. Tinesdale had seen me at my worst. He knew all of my secrets. He understood my psychosis. And the fact that he held faith in my future told me all I needed to know.

  I turned to Mr. Jennings at the door. "So, what's the name of your organization?"

  With a twinkle in his eye, he responded. "The ForeverLand Alliance."

  Chapter 3

  I followed Mr. Jennings out of the school to a dark limousine waiting out front. I couldn't believe just over an hour ago I was being choked to death, and now I was riding in a limousine. Sometimes this world just doesn't make sense.

  I followed Mr. Jennings into the car, taking a seat opposite of him. I looked around the interior, lost in the luxury. Soft charcoal gray leather and dark wood grain accents. This was the life. Wait until the other kids back at the group home heard about this. Oh crap.

  "Um. I need to make a call to the home where I live to let them know...."

  What would I let them know? That I was going off with some strange man for twenty-four hours to see if I could become a secret assassin contracted by the government? That would definitely earn me double the normal therapy sessions.

  "Dr. Tinesdale has already taken care of it," Mr. Jennings replied.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPhone. I watched as he chose a number from his contacts and dialed. I tried to act as if I wasn't listening by looking out the window. I noticed we were headed toward Manhattan.

  "Jennings here. I'm bringing a potential recruit. Miss Charlie Wright. Have Caiden ready to meet us at Café Syreni at 6:00pm."

  Mr. Jennings didn't say goodbye or even wait for confirmation. He just disconnected the call and returned the iPhone to his coat pocket. So, it appeared we would be meeting someone at a restaurant. I hoped dinner was part of their wooing me for the job. I was starving already.

  I snuck a glance at Mr. Jennings and found he was staring at me. Not in a creepy, "I'm thinking of molesting you" kinda way. But more like you would look at something that held your deepest curiosity. He even had his head cocked slightly at an angle and was tapping his finger against his lips as if he was trying to figure something out. I really didn't know what to say, and the silence was a bit awkward. I quickly pulled my gaze from him and stared back out the window. Traffic wasn't bad for a mid-afternoon in Manhattan.

  "So, tell me about your parents' murders, Charlie."

  My gaze snapped from the window to him. "Excuse me?"

  "Your parents' murders. You witnessed them, right? How much of that do you think plays a part in your need to fight."

  What. The. Hell?

  Trying to maintain as much calm as I could, I answered through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jennings...but that is none of your business."

  Mr. Jennings had to have heard the anger in my voice but he didn't appear to be bothered. He shrugged his shoulders. "No matter. I can see it burning in you."

  As someone who had been perpetually under a microscope since the age of thirteen, I didn't need him acting as if he knew my inner most thoughts. What did he know about my suffering? Or anyone's suffering for that matter. He clearly lived a cushy lifestyle. I bet he didn't have anything more serious happen to him than a broken fingernail. Which I'm sure he had a manicurist on standby ready to fix the problem for him. Seething but making no reply to his last statement, I turned my attention back toward the window.

  "I can see I've made you mad. I didn't mean to offend you."

  I looked back at him and studied his face. He didn't even sound the slightest bit sorry and his face held the same truth. I just glared at him. His apology wouldn't be accepted. After a few seconds of suffering my most withering stare, he turned his own head to look out the window. Feeling safe enough, I also turned back to look at the city streets. The sky was overcast gray, and there was a chilly mist in the air that stuck to the car window.

  "It's just...I think you could use your experience...you know...with your parents...to help you in the future."

  I exploded. "Don't you know it's rude to keep pressing someone on a subject that they clearly don't want to talk about." I had enough venom in my voice that I saw Mr. Jennings physically pull his body back a bit.

  I clearly had his attention now and he started backpedaling. "I really am sorry. Sometimes there's a disconnect between my brain and my mouth. I truly didn't mean to make you mad. I'm just...curious about you."

  This apology sounded more genuine but I was still furious with him. Rather than give him another opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, I went on the offensive.

  "Why don't you tell me more about your organization? You said it was called The ForeverLand Alliance?"

  Mr. Jennings smiled. Because he knew I was changing the subject, or because he was fond of his company, he launched into a perfect sales pitch. He talked for nearly a full five minutes, and when he finally shut up, I knew nothing more than I started with.

  Oh, I knew that it was a company with its main offices in New York City, and that it had offices all over the world. I also found out that they specialized in security services and helping to protect people. But that was it and I had already figured that much out on my own.

  I didn't get a chance to ask any deeper questions, as the limousine pulled up to a modern glass and steel building that had "The ForeverLand Alliance" spelled out across the doorway in brushed aluminum letters. Our limo driver opened the back door and I exited first, followed by Mr. Jennings. It was fairly chilly outside of the limo and I pulled my lightweight jacket tighter around me.

  Mr. Jennings took me by the elbow and guided me inside to a sleek, marble lobby furnished with white leather seating and chrome accents. Tropical plants filled the spaces in between, helping to soften the décor. It reeked of big time corporate wealth.

  We approached the security desk which blocked our way with a turnstile. Mr. Jennings put his palm up to an electronic device one of the security guards held out. It gave a soft chime, and Mr. Jennings was waived through, never having taken his other hand off my elbow. Leading me over to the elevators, he pushed the button and we waited for a just a few seconds for one to open.

  Once we stepped inside, Mr. Jennings opened a small door above the regular buttons, which revealed a keypad. He punched in a series of numbers and closed the door. The elevator began to rise and I watched the digital number above the door slowly increase as we passed each floor. I wasn't about to try to make conversation, fearing he would think it was open season to discuss my parents.

  The buttons on the panel indicated the building was twenty-five stories high. When the nu
mber rotated to 23, 24, 25... I subconsciously braced myself for the cart to come to a stop. Instead, the number kept rising. Okay, that's weird. But maybe you could only access higher floors with the keypad. Still, when we got out of the limo, I had given the building a good once over and I could swear the building wasn't very tall.

  When the number got up to thirty, I surely thought it would be coming to a stop, but we continued to rise. I could feel the elevator still moving by the slight shift in my stomach as we defied gravity. I watched with fascination as the floor number continued upwards. 36, 37, 38...

  Okay, I knew something wasn't right. Maybe this was a test to see how I'd react. I could see Mr. Jennings in the reflection from the chrome metal doors. He was watching me as I watched the numbers, probably looking for any kind of worry or upset I might show. I decided to play him at his game. Instead, I started whistling a nonchalant little tune, to show him I was fine passing the time away in an elevator that appeared to be going higher than was physically possible. I glanced at Mr. Jennings and gave him a little smile mid whistle. He smiled back, seeming to enjoy my little melody. I even noticed him tapping his toe in rhythm to my song.

  Finally, there was a ding and I looked up. The elevator said we were on the 43rd floor, which I knew had to be impossible. Still, I played along. The elevator door opened and I looked at Mr. Jennings. He dramatically swept his arm toward the open door. "After you."

  I pasted a pleasant smile on my face and turned to exit the elevator. But the scene that met me caused me to freeze in absolute confusion. Expecting to see offices with maybe some fancy hardwood floors, expensive furniture and a pretty blond receptionist, I was looking into an outdoor tropical setting.

  Just outside the elevator doors, I looked down to see a floor of creamy white marble with light blue veins running through it. It stretched outward in a curved arc about twenty feet to the edge of a mountainous cliff. Overhead was a ceiling of the same white marble and two large marble columns framed the outer edge of the floor. Stretching out beyond the cliff's edge was the most amazing blue ocean lagoon. Several boats dotted the aqua waters. I noticed a sandy beach edging the water and there appeared to a town nestled in among the small mountains covered by rich, green foliage.