River's Journey

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River's Journey Page 9

by Arthurs, Nia


  My unobstructed view of the heavens calmed my heart. I breathed in the sweet scent of hibiscus flowers and listened to the steady thump of a pulse.

  A car door slammed. I glanced up and found Tess dismounting her vehicle.

  Her shoulders drooped. Though she no longer relied on crutches, she limped, favoring her right leg.

  She did not even look toward my side of the fence. The weary expression on her face revealed just how heavily this night had weighed upon her.

  I forced myself to hold still as she walked up the path. The moment she neared, however, I sprung into action.

  Darting toward the fence, I leaned casually against the chain links.

  Tess Hardey stopped short when she caught sight of me.

  I stared at her. She stared back.

  Say something!

  My mouth refused to open. The woman dismissed me and started forward. I cleared my throat, straightened my shoulders and said her name.

  “Tess.”

  Slowly, she turned toward me. The bags beneath her eyes seemed especially pronounced in the shadows.

  Tess pulled her hair away from her neck and wrapped it into a bun.

  Compassion stirred in my chest. Since moving next door to Tess Hardey, she had experienced bad dreams every night. She woke in the wee hours of the morning. And did it all again the next day.

  She was having a hard time. I couldn’t be the one to support her, but I also did not want to see her suffering.

  “What?”

  The impatience in her tone further unsettled me. I searched for something intelligent to say.

  “You’re just coming in?” I blurted.

  The minute the words escaped my mouth I knew it was a mistake. Tess’s wrinkled brow and quirked lips revealed her confusion.

  Her eyes moved from where I was standing to the car she had just climbed out of. It was quite obvious that she had only just arrived.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Realizing that I had made a fool of myself, I pushed off the fence. Stuffing my hands into my pockets in case my abilities showed up unexpectedly, I stepped back.

  “Alright.”

  There was nothing more to say here. I spun on my heels and strolled to my telescope, packing up the pieces to drag it back inside.

  I heard a door slam and looked to my left. Tess had stormed into her house in a fit of anger.

  What had I done now?

  My first attempt at being neighborly had crashed and burned. This was why I didn’t bother.

  Women!

  I gathered my telescope and returned inside. My annoyance kept my blood pumping. It was nearly impossible to sleep.

  “Nooo,” the muttered cries came from Tess’s room as the clock struck two in the morning. “No, please.”

  I covered my ears to block out her moans. The tortured sounds snuck past my fingers and filled my head until all I could hear was Tess.

  The frantic rhythm of her heart and the slapping sound of her hands against the mattress disturbed my peace.

  I swung my legs out of bed.

  “Noo. Nooo.”

  I was just about to break into Tess house and wake her up myself, when her startled grunt reached my ears.

  Tess had awakened.

  I ran my hands over my cheeks. I didn’t know how much more of the night terrors Tess could take. Humans were sensitive creatures.

  Their psychological well-being was just as important as their physical health. If my neighbor didn’t make peace with her memories soon, they would haunt her for life.

  The human girl didn’t deserve a future like that.

  At that moment, I came to a decision. Tess Hardey would not face her future alone. While I sought the persons behind Paul’s murder and the coordinates to the meteor shower, I protect her.

  Starting with finding out exactly who had followed her tonight.

  I had long since discarded any suspicions that Tess was involved with the perpetrators of Paul’s death.

  Her struggles and cries revealed that the events of that night had been just as hard on her.

  No one responsible for cold-blooded murder would be so sensitive to assault.

  The guilty party would pay, not only for Mrs. Sterm’s loss, but for Tess Hardey’s as well. It was right and just. Ivy would be proud.

  Thoughts of the young slave girl filled my head as I padded to my bedroom and found the pants that I had worn earlier. I pulled the pockets inside out.

  A piece of paper fluttered to the ground. I folded the receipt on the underside and read the digits splayed out in my long handwriting.

  BZ-20223

  It was my first lead, but I didn’t know what to do with it. The ramifications of investing any deeper would mean getting help.

  I risked exposing myself and my origins if I stepped too far outside of my box. Perhaps Jones could be of assistance.

  Since I was up already, I changed into a sensible shirt and tugged on a pair of jeans.

  The probability of anyone seeing me this late at night was next to nil, but I didn’t want to be caught in pajama pants.

  I pictured the neighborhood pay phone in my mind. A rush of wind surrounded me. When the energy abated, I opened my eyes.

  The surroundings had changed drastically. I stood on the corner of the street. A large pay phone rose directly in front of me.

  The weathered booth was rusty and dirt scattered around its four corners. I dug my fingers into my pockets for some change.

  When I counted the right amount, I shoved the coins into the slot. The phone came to life in my hands.

  I rang up Jones’s number from memory. The phone dialed and then went to voicemail. I tried again and again, relentlessly calling my friend’s number until he picked up.

  “River, do you know what time it is?” Jones barked.

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  “No! Go to sleep!”

  I ignored his instructions.

  “I need you to run a license plate number for me.”

  “What do I look like? CSI: Belize City? How am I supposed to do that?”

  “You said you had a friend in the police department.”

  “He wasn’t a friend. He was my brother-in-law. My ex-brother-in-law!”

  “Perfect. I really appreciate this, Jones.”

  “River––”

  “My credit is going to run out any second so I’ll catch up later.”

  “You crazy alien! Do you have any idea––”

  I hung up.

  Good ole’ Jones. He would bluster and complain, but at the end of the day he always came through. It was why I trusted him completely.

  I walked back home. The risk of using my abilities was too great. Besides, I needed the time to decompress and put things into perspective.

  Since meeting Tess Hardey, my world had gotten very, very complicated. Beyond her association with Paul and the thugs, my human body… reacted to her.

  I had studied for many years. I knew what the signs were as surely as I knew to avoid them.

  Sweating palms, a racing heart, and sudden awareness of a woman were text book symptoms of human attraction.

  But I wasn’t human.

  For five hundred years I had controlled my urges by focusing on my studies. There was much the human body could withstand if one’s mental capacity was prepared to be disciplined.

  Tess Hardey was the first female that had snuck past my defenses. What barricades could I put in place to keep the chemical imbalances in my brain from developing any further?

  I lived next to her. The probability of seeing her coming and going would only increase as we settled into our schedules.

  Even when we didn’t meet, I heard her at night. It was impossible to block out her pain. I felt connected to it, responsible for it.

  If I had only responded a few minutes earlier, perhaps I could have spared Tess that agony…

  No, I couldn’t think like that.

  Tess Hardey’s emotional care was no
t my responsibility. My ties to her began and ended with Paul Sterm.

  Though my mind was convinced, my human body was not. Even as I neared Tess’s house and saw the lights on, my heart began to thud against my chest.

  I had to get these human reactions under control before they consumed me. Or worse, ballooned into the one thing I had sworn I would never entertain.

  Love.

  It drove men to wars, destroyed families, and turned sensible people into idiots.

  When ‘love’ wore off, people who were unfit for each other realized the mistake they had made and regretted it.

  I prided myself on my track record. The women’s behavior earlier tonight, though exaggerated, was not original.

  I had encountered rather… aggressive females before. But Tess Hardey was different. I couldn’t quite decipher how she felt.

  Half the time she was annoyed with me.

  Most of the time she was annoyed with me.

  It wasn’t a very good start.

  Not that I wanted a start with her.

  I hurried into my house and slammed the door. Thankfully when I laid down to rest, I fell asleep and the buzzing in my head disappeared.

  For the rest of the weekend, I avoided Tess Hardey. She seemed completely oblivious to me so my concentrated efforts were a waste of energy.

  I spent much of Saturday and Sunday raking through Paul’s research and waiting for Jones to update me on the license plate number.

  Despite burning the midnight oil and updating myself on much of the terminologies that Sterm had used in his previous documents, I got nowhere.

  Each time I thought I had unlocked the key, a probability threw me off course. It seemed the only man that could help was Paul.

  Jones’s silence was equally frustrating. He hadn’t gotten to his brother-in-law at the station yet.

  On Monday afternoon, I stormed into the Psychology Building. I was in a terrible mood. Success came easily to me. The fact that I couldn’t solve Paul’s simple algorithm stung.

  “Wow,” Jones yelled when I passed his office. “What’s gotten into you?”

  I pretended that I hadn’t heard his words, though we both know I would have heard them even if he’d whispered.

  Jones poked his head out the door and peered through his spectacles.

  “Did birds poop on your windshield again?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Come on in,” he jerked his head toward his office.

  I followed him into the warmly decorated room and sat in the wingback chair.

  “It’s the algorithm,” I explained. “I can’t seem to crack it.”

  “What’s the big deal about this stars research again?”

  I folded my arms in front of me. “My ship comes into earth’s orbit every five hundred years.”

  “Yes…”

  “My people move at increased speeds. We don’t linger long and we don’t announce our visit. If I want to meet my ship, I have to figure out the exact time and place it will land.”

  “Right,” Jones smacked his head. “I knew this. That’s why you were working with Sterm.”

  “Yes.”

  Jones checked his watch. “Man, I hate to cut this short, but I have a meeting to get to. Parent-teacher stuff. Leslie’s acting up again.”

  Jones’s daughter had taken the divorce hard. Her grades had been slipping and Jones was at his wits end trying to connect with her.

  “It’s okay,” I stood. “I have a class now anyway.”

  “Don’t worry, River. I know you’ll crack the code.”

  “You have more confidence than I do.”

  “That’s because I’m human. I may not be as smart or as experienced as you, but there’s one thing that humans have in spades.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have hope,” Jones said. He smiled and slipped through the door.

  Chapter 14

  My classroom had doubled since the first meeting. The hush of students rapt at attention was a heady feeling.

  “And that is why the human romanticism of bald eagles is flawed. Yes, the birds mate for life, but if one dies, the surviving bird will not hesitate to seek a new mate. Like humans, emotions that produce connection only carry so far.”

  I glanced down at my watch.

  “That’s it for today class,” I dismissed them.

  As the students mobilized and strolled out of the classroom, I organized my class notes. This had been productive session, not just for the students but for me as well.

  Even birds moved on easily.

  The minute I found the switch that Tess Hardey had sprung to claim my attention, I would do so as well.

  “Pss, River!”

  My ears picked up the frantic call. Jones?

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I pushed my way through the crowd of strolling students.

  Racing toward the stairwell, I checked to see if anyone was lurking. I was completely alone.

  “River!” his plea came again.

  I closed my eyes and listened intently to the voice. Following the sound as I had done so often through the years, I allowed my instincts to guide me to Jones’s side.

  “What is it? What’s the problem?”

  My gaze swept the expanse of Jone’s office. Had Paul’s murders linked me to the meteorologist and used Jones as leverage? Had a masked gunman raided the school?

  Or worse. Had Jones’s ex-wife come calling?

  The adrenaline in my veins spiked, but there was no one here. I grabbed Jones’s shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “Leslie,” he groaned and wilted. “It’s Leslie?”

  “Where is she? Is she in danger?”

  “She got… suspended.”

  “Suspended?”

  I released Jones. He leaned a hand on the wooden surface of his desk, his face a mask of defeat.

  “Jones, you called me to your office as if something had happened!”

  “Something has happened!” Jones yelled. “What am I going to do with her?”

  I sympathized with his plight and saw his distress. It was the only thing keeping me from scolding the life out of him.

  This was a turbulent time. I needed Jones to be more careful. What if someone had seen me? What if he really needed me in the future and I hesitated because of this incident?

  “I’m sorry about Leslie,” I began. “But next time, don’t call me like that.”

  “Yes, yes.” Jones waved his hand in the air. “I didn’t call you just to talk. I need you to watch Leslie for me.”

  My eyes bugged. Twenty-first century teenage girls were about as frightening as militant soldiers.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I’m asking as a friend.”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” Jones folded his arms. “I was going to call my brother-in-law today, but since you’re not ready to repay my favor with one of your own then…”

  I winced. Jones had me there and he knew it.

  “I had no idea you were this calculating.”

  “I’m desperate. I’ll need you to pick her up from her mother on King Street and entertain her for a few hours. Thanks.”

  Jones picked up his wallet and car keys and made a dash for the door.

  “You know I have a five o’clock class right!” I yelled at his back.

  “Yeah!” Jones lifted his thumb into the air and disappeared from sight.

  My absent-minded friend probably hadn’t heard a word I said. It looked like I was on baby-sitting duty today.

  Grudgingly, I picked up Jones’s kid. Leslie got into the car with a huff. She slammed the door shut behind her.

  I winced, half-expecting the mirror to fall off. Miraculously, it held firm. I started the car and glanced at my young passenger.

  Leslie Anne was slim and tall with flawless dark brown skin and fierce features. She had her father’s wide nose and her mother’s almond-shaped eyes.

  “Uh, good evening,” I made an effo
rt to speak.

  She folded her arms firmly across her chest and looked out the window. My eyes scanned her outfit and I nearly choked.

  The child wore a mini-skirt that exposed most of her legs. Her shirt had a dip that was nearly ungodly.

  I had studied the patterns of man long enough to recognize an attention-seeker when I saw one. Even though Leslie was only fifteen, dressed like that, she would get a lot of attention.

  And though I’m sure it was flattering to hear the admiring comments, the inappropriateness of her dress concerned me.

  What was I supposed to do with her?

  I tried one more time to strike up conversation.

  “How was your day?”

  Silence. The girl tilted her head and focused on the Belizean scenery outside.

  I paused at the stop light and looked through my windshield, searching for whatever held her so captivated.

  A green upper story house sat on the corner. A man with dreadlocks carried a little girl in a yellow school uniform on his handlebars.

  Taxi men lounged near a pink bus stop. Their dark arms and legs were exposed by the vests and Bermudan shorts they wore.

  Though the scene was idyllic, it was not enough to engross. Leslie Anne was, indeed, simply ignoring me.

  I was fine with the quiet. In fact, I preferred it.

  By the time I turned into my driveway, Leslie and I had already reached an understanding of sorts.

  I would leave her alone and she would do as she pleased as long as she remained in the house.

  While I prepared for my next class, Leslie turned on the television. Like a zombie, she relaxed into the couch and stared at the screen.

  I left her alone for a few hours, but as the time for my class drew near, I began to fret. Where was Jones?

  “Leslie, could I borrow your cell phone?” I asked.

  Without tearing her gaze from the television, the teenager tossed me her phone. I caught it clumsily and narrowed my eyes at her rudeness.

  She was completely unaffected by my stare.

  I took a few steps toward the kitchen and called Jones’s number.

  “Hello?”

  I must have caught him at a bad time. Jones’s voice was full of exasperation.

  “Are you almost done?”

  “No,” Jones snapped. “I have to work some things out with the teachers so they’ll send homework for Leslie. Courtney is being her normal pig-headed self!”

 

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