by Lynn Vroman
“It is.”
“Then keeping you there is ideal. You need to be weaker than the energy pulling you through. Sounds like whoever’s helping him might be using persuasion to change your parents’ behavior. Only stronger Protectors have that kind of ability.”
“Persuasion?” Well, didn’t that make things more complicated? “What should I do? I can’t kidnap my mom, force her to leave.”
Blond brow raised, he said, “Sure we can.”
“But didn’t you say you weren’t allowed to interfere?”
He grinned. God, those dimples turned my brain into a puddle. “I think we could consider this a…clear connection to whatever is going on.”
I liked the way he thought. “So, you’ll help?”
After checking the rabbit, he peeled off a piece and handed it over. “We need to be certain, of course.” He pulled off another piece and ate it, a smidgen of grease rolling off his chin. “I’ll talk to Wilma, get her advice.”
The rabbit actually tasted awesome. The meat, so juicy and sweet, melted in my mouth. “Wilma seems to know a lot about what’s right and wrong when it comes to me,” I said, licking my fingertips.
He blew on another piece before sliding it between his lips. “Well, she should. She’s been your Protector for the past three cycles.”
“Why not you?”
Tarek stayed silent for a moment and watched the crackling flames as he wiped greasy hands on his thighs. He finally said, “Conflict of interest.”
My damn face caught on fire again. “Oh.” I went to dab some glacial water on my cheeks in an attempt to staunch the heat, pretending like I washed my hands. “So she’s another one who doesn’t retire?”
His voice echoed behind me. “She’s been through more cycles on Exemplar than anyone I’ve ever known. Wilma’s probably one of the strongest of our kind.” He paused. I turned in time to see a myriad of emotions cross his face, from rage to sadness. “She’d never leave you alone.”
The idea that Wilma sacrificed so much to protect me was hard to comprehend. I used to wonder why she took such an interest in my life and not the others who lived here. Now everything became clear. For some reason the woman loved me. Hopefully, I’d find out why I deserved it.
∞ ∞ ∞
The faint echo of the bus reached our little sanctuary. We’d spent the past seven hours sitting in the woods, talking, laughing…arguing. Seriously, best day ever. Being around him created electricity.
I grabbed my backpack, really hating the whole having to go home thing. “We need to clean this up. Visitors will be coming soon.”
He kicked out the flames and grabbed his pack too. “Where do we go now?”
“Well, I go back home. You…you need to find a place to lay low until I can get away.”
His chin squared. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You can’t come home with me.” I stood on my toes to ruffle his silky hair. “They’ll never let me keep you.”
“Funny.” He hiked his pack higher on his shoulder. “I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t exactly blend.”
“Trust me.”
Resigned, I shrugged. “Why don’t you stay at Wilma’s? I’ll sneak out tonight after everyone goes to bed.”
After a full minute of scrutiny, he said, “Fine. But you’ll show me which one of those boxes you live in first.” He stormed toward the park. “And if you don’t come to me, I’m coming to you.”
Shaking my head, I took the lead. “Whatever, just try not to scare the natives.”
His chuckle bounced through the trees.
∞ ∞ ∞
After taking Tarek close enough to see my trailer, we made it to the mailboxes as the bus pulled up. Unlike Wilma, who only heard insults and laughs, my blond giant won drooling admiration from the girls and pissed-off looks from the boys. The kid who tried hitting on me yesterday–and whose name I still couldn’t remember–was the only one brave enough to ask about him.
“He’s…Wilma’s nephew,” I said, noticing that got some of the boys’ attention. Their faces paled as they scurried toward their houses. “Yeah, I’d run away, too, assholes.”
Not one of them came back with the typical insult or oinking noise.
Feeling really good, and really petty at the same time, I glanced behind me only to get a smirk from Tarek. “Um…long story. That’s Wilma’s place.” I pointed to her trailer. “Nice, right?”
He nodded and climbed the steps to Wilma’s front door.
I gave what’s-his-name a wave and followed. “So much for blending.”
He shrugged, shoving open the door easily enough, seeing that Wilma only bothered to lock it when she went to work. After watching what she did to Tarek last night, I realized why none of the pukes living around here scared her.
I showed him around, waving a hand here and there. Wilma’s place didn’t have much to offer, with its bare walls and beige furniture, but it was comfortable and clean. She did have a thirty-two inch flat screen in the living room for movies but had never hooked up the cable. Said it rotted the brain. Her bedroom sported a queen-sized memory foam mattress, a plain oak dresser, and a nightstand that always held a dog-eared book. The book du jour was Homer’s The Iliad.
I flopped on the most comfortable bed ever and waved an arm around the room. “She’s got Tshirts in the dresser that’ll probably fit you, but not much else. There’s food in the fridge, and if you can’t figure out the stove or microwave let me know tonight.”
He stood at the room’s entryway, smiling. “Thanks.”
I lifted my chin. “Did I say something funny?”
He looked at his boots and shook his head.
“What?”
“Nothing, Lena. It’s…I’ll be fine. I’ve read my history books.” The way he said it, like I was an idiot, had my temper jumping.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I understand how simple things are in dimensions like this one.”
I slid off the bed. “How simp–whatever, see you tonight.”
“Wait, why’re you mad?” He wouldn’t move.
“So I’m simple?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. I–damn, I’m screwing up, aren’t I?”
“A little bit, now move. If I don’t walk down the hill with the other rejects, Dad’ll be pissed.”
“If he hurts you…”
“You can’t do anything, remember?” I stomped to the door when he moved aside, my fingers shaking.
He held out his hands. “Look, I don’t think you’re simple. That’s the last thought that comes to mind when I think of you.” Those big hands raked through his hair. “And believe me, you’re pretty much all I ever think about.”
After a few deep breaths, I opened the door. His face was desperate, but… “I don’t need you making me feel like a moron.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like anything.”
My anger dissolved some.
Some.
“We’ll talk tonight. Maybe you can enlighten my simple mind and explain what you meant about the whole history book thing.”
His face flushed. “That’s not what I–I’m trying, okay?”
∞ ∞ ∞
When I walked through the door, Mom sat in Dad’s usual spot, smoking a cigarette. There was no sign of him, which gave us a small window to talk. But her face, empty and pale, reminded me of the same look Dad wore when he drank all day.
Dropping my backpack by the door, I went to squat in front of her. “Mom? You okay?”
She took a deep drag and blew it in my face. “You’re a disobedient girl, Lena.”
The smoke didn’t bother me. It wasn’t the first time someone had blown the shit in my face. But Mom’s new attitude did–terrified me, honestly. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Didn’t go to school, did you?”
I stood only to have her flat eyes follow. �
��I don’t know what he did to you, but,” I swallowed some of the panic, “this isn’t you. Do you hear me?”
She butted her cigarette in the dirty ashtray on her lap, never taking her eyes off me. “Next time, I’ll tell your father. Do you hear me?”
“Mom, please, listen–”
“No, you listen!” She jumped up, pointing her finger in my face, the ashtray spilling all over the soiled carpet. Her eyes, so green, so much like mine, were now foreign. “Your father is getting this house in order, and you will abide by his rules or face punishment.”
Despite the rage seeping from every pore, my voice grew soft. “You don’t mean that.”
Her voice took on the dips and flows of a television evangelist. “God spoke, and He knows what we need.”
My body grew cold as my legs threatened to give. “Mom, stop.” I licked my dry lips, the smell of stale smoke on her breath turning my stomach. “God’s not talking to you. It’s–”
She smacked me, hard. My head whipped back, and the taste of blood filled my mouth.
I held my cheek.
Don’t be afraid…
Don’t be afr–
Shit. Too late…
The floors began to tremble and creak. I groped for Dad’s chair to keep me on my feet when the movement became stronger, rocking both of us as if we were sailing.
Her eyes finally came to life. “Oh, baby! I’m so sorry, I…” She pulled me into her arms, and the floors grew quiet and still. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
My shaking hand patted her back as every rational part of my brain begged to stay strong and not crumble, the moving floor more of a reminder than anything. “You have to fight it, Mom. Whatever it is, you have to fight. We need to leave.”
She hugged me tighter.
Their bedroom door opened. “What’s all the commotion?”
Mom’s arms went lax, and her body stiffened. I pulled away to see that dead look invade her eyes again. “Mom?”
“I’m having a talk with our daughter, Rick. Making her understand, is all.”
Dad came over, putting his arm around Mom’s shoulder. “Well, that’s good, honey. Real good.” The pride in his eyes had my stomach roiling. “Why don’t you go to your room now, peanut. We’ll call ya when dinner’s ready.”
Dick…
A sneer twisted my lips as I shoved by them, slamming the door to my room. Tarek didn’t need Wilma’s insight to get involved. All the proof he needed was right there, hugging each other in my living room.
Lena
Watching Mom cater to Dad, jumping to do whatever he asked with a smile on her face, made my skin crawl. They kissed and snuggled. He made her read Bible verses, while she knelt in front of his seat. Anything he asked, she did, like a meek little slave.
Either I landed in 1955, or the Twilight Zone decided my trailer was the best place for an episode.
Dinner consisted of a can of tuna mixed with tomato soup and noodles, some of the last bits of food left in the cupboards. They ate it like it was Thanksgiving, making pleasure noises after each bite. I pushed it around my paper plate, only eating the noodles not covered with tuna or soup.
As Mom scrubbed the dishes, Dad signaled for me to sit by him, demanding to hear the Ten Commandments. Every time he felt my recitation missed important points, he squeezed my hand until the bones in my fingers crunched together. An hour passed before I said them right, and he finally let me go to my room.
At a quarter to eleven, they were still up, watching television, praying with some televangelist. Twelve thirty hit and the television continued to blare as they listened to a crying woman praise God and ask for money from her viewers. By one, the desire to break the TV, throw Mom over my shoulder, and run for the door made it difficult to sit and do nothing.
When I thought my head would explode, a light tapping echoed through the room. I circumvented the bed I refused to lay on to open the window. Fear never showed up, only relief. I knew who’d be waiting.
“Hey,” I said, trying to turn the volume down on the smile hurting my cheeks.
His smile shined just as bright. “You forgot to come over.” Tarek pressed a hand to the screen, and with a gesture for me to move back, he pushed it in, the barrier landing with a quiet plop on my floor.
I flicked off the lights before going back to the window. “My parents are still up, acting crazy as hell.”
His smile dimmed when he glanced at my lip.
“Something’s wrong with my mom.” I touched the tender spot still crusted with blood. “The floor…after she…It moved.”
Tarek’s thumb smoothed over the cut, his eyes hard. “You need to leave this place.”
“Well, I’m not leaving without her.” When he opened his mouth, I held up a hand. “I told you. Something’s wrong.”
Silence gnawed away any happy feelings. He couldn’t help, and I wouldn’t leave without her. It was an impasse, and no solution would sit well with either of us.
After a cough, and a once over around my room, finding nothing interesting to focus on, I said, “So, what’re you gonna do, sit outside my window all night?”
The corners of his mouth turned upward, relieving some of the tension between us. “No. I plan on coming in.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until they go to bed. Mom usually comes in to check on me, so…”
“So, I guess I’ll stand out here until then.”
“You might be waiting a while. They’re pretty busy worshipping the television.”
Like when we sat in the woods, he massaged my palms, keeping his eyes on the task. “I’m good at waiting.”
I fidgeted, not knowing what to say to that. Pulling my hands out of his, I said in a whisper, “Tell me what you meant about the history book thing.”
His eyes found mine. “It’s kind of complicated.”
“We’ve got a few hours to kill.”
His dimples made him look young. Well, younger. He didn’t look a day over twenty.
“It’s so odd, explaining all this to you. I have to remind myself that you’re not messing with me.”
“Did I do that a lot?”
He bit his bottom lip and shrugged. I couldn’t help giggling, acting as though I hadn’t just spent the entire evening watching my parents perform like deranged puppets.
“I’ll bet I did if you wore stuff like that shiny leotard all the time,” I said.
His face reddened. “Hey, that suit has its uses.” He grabbed my hands again, as though he needed to touch me.
“Like what?”
“Well, like…you know, stuff. Warrior stuff.”
A laugh escaped, defeating the purpose of whispering. “Warrior stuff?”
He smiled, his fingers continuing to put gentle pressure on my palms. “Yeah, warrior stuff. I wouldn’t expect a non-warrior to get it.”
“Oh, I’m a warrior.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
If my smile stretched any bigger, it’d swallow my face. “Sure. I’m tough. Don’t let the skinny arms fool you.”
He reached up to feel my bicep. “Oh, right, yeah, I get it. Definitely tough.”
I giggled again, sounding like those empty-headed predators I despised in school. “Okay, enough. About those history books, educate me, warrior.”
His smile faded as he looked toward my bedroom door. “Wait a minute.” He moved to lean against the side of the trailer, away from the window.
My door opened as I closed the blinds. “Lena? What’re you still doing up?” The vacant look still dulled Mom’s eyes. “If you miss school tomorrow, you’ll answer to your father.”
Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Don’t yell. “Sorry, I’ll go to bed now.”
“Say your prayers.” She shut the door, and in a few minutes, the drone of the television quieted and the click of their bedroom door traveled through the paper-thin walls.
I yanked open the blinds to find Tarek scowling. “Why do you care about th
at woman?”
“She’s my mother.”
“So?” He gripped the sill, his knuckles white.
“I’m not leaving without her. Period.”
He dragged a hand through his hair.
“What? Was I some kind of heartless bitch before or something? I didn’t have a family?”
“I’m your family. And Wilma.”
I couldn’t help noticing he said it in the present tense. “No parents? Siblings?”
“New energies are a rare occurrence, much less having a sibling.” He hesitated. “Only one instance has been recorded in the last three centuries. Your parents, as with many of us, left during your first cycle, retired to another dimension.”
“Why would they do that?” It all sounded so bleak, so callous.
Holding his hand out for mine, I took the invitation, needing his warmth. “After a while we lose compassion, empathy.” He squeezed my hand. “But with us, it’s different. Wilma, too. You’re loved, more than anyone could ever love you here.”
I blinked away tears, not really sure why I cried, and backed up. “You can come in now. We’ll just have to be quiet.”
He gripped the sill and vaulted over. My heart flipped. All those stories Mom used to read, about princesses and the brave knights saving them, had me waiting around the window for my own hero to jump through. Actually, for Him to jump through. At fourteen, I decided I made a better hero than someone imaginary.
When I stood there, staring, he scrunched his brow. “What?”
“Ah…nothing.” My face heated as my heart swelled twice its normal size. Hmm, maybe I stopped waiting for Him too soon.
Tarek shrugged and sat on the bed only to get pushed around as the water sloshed and waved. Watching him try to right himself as he whispered curses helped ease the temporary mind blip. For some reason his presence evoked multiple fits of embarrassing, high-pitched giggling.
“You think it’s funny, huh?” He snaked an arm around my waist, yanking me down to float with him.
He pulled me up to lay almost on top of him, his body heat protecting me from the cold seeping through the rubber mattress. “Now this is a particularly good example for when my warrior suit would be useful.”
