by Rae Knightly
He fell silent, so Ben had to push him on: “Me, all along, who did…. what?”
Mesmo looked at him with his honey-coloured eyes: “…you, who was calling me…” He pointed at the watch again: “…with this.”
They both stared at the shimmering diamond-like stone.
Mesmo explained: “You could call it a spirit portal. It’s a device that, when activated, allows my spirit to travel to it. When you touch the device and call me with your mind, I will hear the call and can then decide whether or not I wish to travel to you in spirit. A human from Earth could not activate it, but I guess, now, you are more than a normal Earth human.”
Ben studied the shiny gem with renewed respect. “I’m glad you’re here.” He said, feeling relieved. “My Mom’s not getting any better. She needs her asthma pump. I’m sure she has a spare one at home. All we need to do is sneak into the apartment. I know where she would have kept it…”
Mesmo held up his hand to stop him talking: “Ben, listen to me.” His eyes were unreadable as he said slowly: “I came to tell you that I can help you no further.”
Ben shook his head as if to get rid of his words, adding quickly: “No, it’s ok. I’ve got it all figured out. You see all we have to do is…”
“Ben!” Mesmo interrupted. The boy stopped in mid-sentence with his mouth open. Mesmo repeated more insistently: “I only came to make sure that you were safe. But I can’t help you any longer.”
Ben stared at him, incredulous: “Yes, you can! Of course you can. You’ve got all those powers. You’ve helped before. Why wouldn’t you help us now?”
When the white-haired man answered by remaining silent, Ben stood up hastily, casting him a furious look: “Well go on then!” he yelled, tears now flowing down his cheeks, “Do your disappearing trick! You’re so good at that! See if I care! My Mom and I, we’ve gotten by fine without you before. It’s not like we need you now!”
He ran to the cabin, Tike close at his heals, ignoring Susan who had been observing them from afar. She dried her hands on her apron, glaring at Mesmo, before heading back inside.
***
That night Ben snuck into bed. He did not want to talk with anyone. He switched off the light so he wouldn’t be bothered.
Susan was finishing cleaning up the kitchen when she noticed Mesmo in the doorway, looking out. She joined him, then stopped in her tracks, for she quickly realized what had attracted his attention.
Like a ghost in the moonlight, a huge, white moose was standing quite still, close by the water. The skin from this proud, adult male was glittering from the long swim he had just taken, his large antlers crowned his head while steam was coming from his nostrils. Susan stared in awe as she stood quietly beside Mesmo. “I’d heard of them - these albino moose. They are extremely rare.” She breathed, afraid to startle the animal. “I never thought I’d actually see one up close.” She glanced at the white-haired alien beside her, taken aback by the meaning of her own words. They both observed the beast until it faded away into the nearby trees.
Susan Pickering stared up at Mesmo giddily, her voice coming in a whisper: “Did you make it come?”
After a pause, Mesmo shook his head: “No. It wasn’t me. It was the boy.”
Susan startled: “Ben? But how? I thought he was…”
“…human?” Mesmo finished for her. “Yes, he is human. But my daughter passed on her skill to him. She passed on her ability to communicate with other species. He just isn’t aware that he’s doing it. The moose must have sensed something, but couldn’t figure out what it was.”
Susan remained silent, pondering this information. After a while, she asked carefully: “What are you doing here, Jack?”
“Mesmo.” He corrected. “My name is Mesmo.”
“All right. Mesmo.” She repeated. “What are you doing here, exactly?”
Mesmo considered her for a moment, before answering gently: “Why do you ask, Susan Pickering? The less you know, the less trouble you will attract to yourself. I know you know that.” He let his comment hang, before offering: “My task is to be an observer. My companions were going to help me complete this mission, but now that they are dead, I am not sure I will make it…”
Susan shook her head as though she did not want to hear any more. “No, no.” She argued: “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t asking you what you’re doing here, on Earth. I don’t want to know about those things. I’m asking what you’re doing here, on my island, in my cabin.”
Mesmo shifted uncomfortably, clearly uneasy at her question, studying the plump woman in an attempt to judge how she would react. Finally, he reached out a hand towards her, saying: “Take it.”
She frowned suspiciously, wondering where this was going, then hesitantly lifted her hand to take his. But instead of touching real, solid flesh and bone, her hand slid right through his, as though it were made of thin air. As soon as she realized this, she jumped back, holding on to her hand as if it had been burnt.
Mesmo, who had expected this, answered her unasked question: “No. I am not a ghost.”
He gazed out at the night while Susan remained stuck to the wall, afraid to move an inch. “I am able to disconnect my spirit from my body and travel great distances in the blink of an eye. However, in order to do so, I must have access to a portal which will allow me to appear as you see me now.” He stopped, before adding: “The boy has that portal.”
He turned to face her again, his eyes hidden under the shadows of his brow: “You see, I fell into a trap at the Toronto Airport. I was lured into a corridor away from other travelers. Several men attacked me, knocking me unconscious. When I woke up I was strapped to a bed in a white room surrounded with machines and men in doctor’s gowns. I do not know who is holding me or why. But they know who I am and that I am… not from down here.”
He paused before continuing with a strain in his voice: “My people respect freedom above all. We do not do well in confined spaces. Being shut away from the outside, kills us. If the boy had not activated the spirit portal, thus offering me a means of escape – even though it is only an illusion of sorts - my situation would have become unbearable. I would have died long ago.” He stared at Susan before finishing: “I am here, on your island, Susan Pickering, because the boy is keeping me alive…”
Susan had regained her composure by now, the fear in her eyes slowly replaced by displeasure as he spoke. “So it’s just as I thought.” She muttered when he had finished.
Mesmo stared at her blankly.
She approached him, pointing an accusing finger at him, though from a safe distance so as to avoid touching his non-essence. “You’re not here for the boy, you’re here because of him.” She hissed.
Mesmo shook his head, not understanding; “Is there a difference?”
“There’s a huge difference.” She said sternly: “The boy thinks you actually care about him, that you’re here for him. But you’re not, you’re only using him to survive.” Since he didn’t react, she continued: “You’re torturing that boy! He’s forming a bond with you, he looks up to you. The longer you stay, the harder it will be on him to see you go. Because, one day, you will go. Or am I wrong?”
When Mesmo still didn't reply, she sighed, exasperated at his seeming lack of understanding: “Don’t you see? If his mother dies, he’ll be on his own...”
They heard a clutter as someone closed the upstairs bedroom window. Ben had been listening in on them the whole time. Susan glared at Mesmo angrily.
The alien stared at her, his eyes shrouded in dark, his face expressionless: “Yes, Susan Pickering, I am using the boy to stay alive, as you say, and, yes, I will leave when I am done here. Where I come from, we do not give in to strong emotions the way humans do. I must remain neutral and impartial if I am to complete my mission…”
“Neutral and impartial!” Susan snorted. “You stopped being neutral and impartial the minute you fell from the sky! The minute you lost your daughter and met them.” She pointed indoor
s to show she was referring to Ben and Laura. She stepped into the cabin, away from the cold: “You call yourself an observer. Well, my alien friend, I think it’s time you opened your eyes.”
***
Mesmo gazed at the stars for a long moment, thinking of Susan’s words, for they resonated in his mind like an echo. Had his friend Amaru not said something very similar recently, on the high Andes Mountains of Bolivia? Something about having lost his ability to be the Observer? He struggled with this thought, before Kaia’s beautiful face emerged in his memories, and he knew he must continue, no matter what. For her sake.
He stepped inside, then headed to the bedroom where Laura was fighting for her life. Her body was shivering, her forehead was glistening with sweat. Though he could not physically touch her, he could sense the water imbalance in her body as his hand hovered over her shoulder. He concentrated for a moment, sending a warm flow of energy from his palms into her body, until the balance had somewhat been restored. She stopped shivering and rested more peacefully. He could not heal her, but at least she would be calm for a while.
Mesmo noticed how her hair had turned a dull, lifeless colour. It was a sharp contrast with the fine halo of light that had formed around the contour of her head as the setting sun had shone through her ash blonde hair back on the fields of Chilliwack. Her green eyes had stood out against the early autumn pallet of ginger, apricot and maroon-coloured leaves. He traced her fine features into his mind, closed his eyes, then let himself glide back to his physical body, which lay almost 3000 miles away.
As usual, he first recovered his hearing, which captured the low beeping of machines, then he opened his eyes to a blurry, artificial light, and, lastly, he felt the pain. It always hit him like a brick wall, making him groan. Even though he knew to expect it, he could not get used to it.
Immediately, he heard the muffled voices of several men who rushed into the room in their pale green antiviral, protective suits and mouth covers.
One of them waved a bright light into Mesmo’s eyes, confirming: “He’s back.” While another ordered: “Check his vital signs.” A third one was plling at the straps that were pinning down his arms and legs onto the hospital bed.
“He’s good.” The second one said, after analysing a heart monitor.
“Call the boss.” The first voice ordered through the only doorway leading out of the white, bleached room. “Tell him he’s back. Vital signs have returned to normal.”
The third man was injecting something into Mesmo’s arm, muttering: “Where’d our Martian go this time, I wonder?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Crossing
INSPECTOR JAMES HAO AND AGENT THEODORE Connelly met in the hallway of the Vancouver Police Department.
Hao quizzed: “Well?” As they entered an elevator going up to the 5th floor.
Connelly reported: “Still nothing. All we have is Laura Archer’s attempt to register at the Comfort Inn in North Vancouver and the abandoned car at The Bearded Bear diner. We’ve interrogated all possible witnesses. We’ve gone through all local traffic video cameras. We’ve found nothing. Not a trace of them.”
The elevator pinged when they arrived. They stepped out, headed down the corridor, then into an office with a desk strewn with documents. Hao searched through the papers, before pulling out a file.
Connelly continued: "We have no reports from any units placed in the area. That guy you saw with Laura Archer outside the notary office in Chilliwack might still be helping them. We still don't know who he was.”
Hao growled: “Well, if you had actually been there instead of running off on your own wild-goose-chase, maybe we wouldn’t be asking ourselves that question!” He licked the tip of his finger to flip through the file as he glared at Connelly.
Connelly’s mouth twitched.
Turning his attention to the file again, Hao said thoughtfully: “We know they are running out of money since we froze Laura Archer’s accounts. Plus the waitress from the diner said the boy paid for their food with change. We also know they no longer have a car. So they can’t be very far. We have units controlling all major exits, they will have to come out in the open sometime.” He pointed at the report, adding: “The waitress said that the Laura Archer didn’t eat, then left the boy alone to pay. Why did she do that?”
Connelly shrugged. "How should I know? What do we do now? We have no other leads..."
Hao put down the report, smiling: “Oh, but I think we do. It’s only a matter of time.”
***
Ben tiptoed down the stairs in the dark. He was fully dressed. It was not yet dawn and a chill made it through his sweatshirt. He borrowed a plaid blanket which he put over his shoulders to protect himself against the cold. Silently, he peeked into the bedroom where his mother lay.
Ben took his mother’s hand, whispering: “Hang in there, Mom. I’ll be back soon.”
He gestured to Tike, who jumped happily into his arms, then the boy grabbed the boat key that was hanging next to the front door. Quietly, the two of them ran to the pier where they hopped into one of the motorboats. Although a fog was clinging to the water, Ben could make out the lights from Deep Cove and the outline of the mountains, as dawn neared.
The boy released the boat from the pier, then took an oar to manoeuver it away from the shore. Once he was at a safe distance, he put the key into the ignition, then, his heart beating fast, switched the motor to life. It made a huge racket in the silent night. He looked around fearfully, certain that he would wake up half of the inlet. But everything remained peaceful, so he moved the motorboat forward slowly, his hands trembling as he learned to control it. He had to stretch his neck to get a good view over the front of the vessel, though in the end it turned out to be quite manageable.
He was making good way when the mist cleared slightly, revealing a navy blue sky with some twinkling stars above him. The pitch dark waters surrounded him, while the night sky went on and on into the void above him. Although he had left the island several minutes ago, his heart was still beating fast. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and found it pearling with sweat in spite of the cold air. His breath started coming in gasps.
What’s wrong with me?
With dread he recognized the symptoms, but it was too late. The sky came collapsing down on him from all sides. His vision blurred. In a desperate move he switched off the motorboat before dropping down to his knees with his hands to his head. The huge, empty night swallowed him up, crushing him to the floor of the swaying boat.
He had a clear vision of himself standing in the field next his grandfather, listening to the hissing noise just before the spaceship came crashing down to Earth. Everything was swaying, making him feel physically sick.
“Grampa!” Ben begged. “Grampa! Grampa!”
Tike jumped up and down before him with his ears laid back, trying to pull the boy out of the panic attack that had grasped his mind.
“Ben!” Grampa called, as he stood silhouetted against the burning wreck.
“Ben!” The boy heard his name loud and clear, except it wasn’t coming from his mind, but rather from the boat that he was crouching in. He opened his eyes carefully, trying to comprehend how Grampa could have materialized onto the boat with him.
Mesmo was staring at him from the back of the boat. The alien was calling his name; his hand plunged into the water, as if he were testing its temperature.
Ben slowly uncurled his arms from his head. He noticed that the boat was no longer rocking about aimlessly, rather, it felt stable as it advanced at a slow pace. He stood up carefully, his mind clearing. Behind Mesmo, the town of Deep Cove was slowly moving away. He turned around to face the front of the boat. His eyes widened in panic as he realized it was heading back towards the island at a steady pace.
“No! Stop that! You’re going the wrong way!”
Mesmo scolded: “It’s too dangerous! You can’t do this on your own!”
Ben’s eyes welled with tears: “What am
I supposed to do then, huh? Who’s going to go with me?” He glared at Mesmo: “Are you?”
Mesmo stared at him very intently without answering.
“Exactly!” Ben continued. “You’re not going to do anything about it! So go away! Mind your own business!”
“Ben!” Mesmo said sternly, trying to catch the boy’s attention, “I need your help.” He lifted his hand out of the water. Immediately the boat began to rock softly to-and-fro.
Ben’s jaw dropped: “You need my help?” He stared, incredulous. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” He turned his head away, not wanting Mesmo to see the hurt on his face, before he thought the better of it, then he snapped: “Why didn’t you say anything before? About being kidnapped?”
Mesmo answered: “My problems did not concern you. I had expected to get out of this mess by now. But I have no access to water, so I cannot defend myself.” He wrung his hands together, saying in defeat: “I don’t think I can get out.”
Ben stared at the sea, a mixture of emotions bubbling inside of him. “So, am I supposed to feel sorry for you now?” He retorted.
“No.” Mesmo answered matter-of-factly: “But I want you to understand why I said I can no longer help you. My abilities are limited. If you cross this inlet to try to get your mother’s medication on your own, I can’t guarantee that I will be there to help you. You need to go back to the island and find a solution with the Pickering woman.”
“I don’t have time to sit around and chat with Susan!” Ben said angrily. “I might be too late already!” He sat down heavily, pulling the plaid blanket around him. He hung his head between his knees, sulking.
