He was sharply dressed, wearing a grey suit with a white button up shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. Walked with one hand in his pocket, he had a cadence to his step that seemed carefully engineered to be sexy, just like everything else about him. His hair was light brown, short on the sides, but long on the top where it was tussled. He looked like a male underwear model.
Stopping just short of the pathway, he stood on the street facing me. I instinctively took two steps back. He didn’t move any closer, but gave me a smile that made me melt a little inside. Shaking it off, I scolded myself mentally for falling prey to it.
“Why do you stay here with them?” He asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked.
He laughed. “Don’t you find them a little puritanical?”
I didn’t answer, but asked “Are you The Corrupt?”
He laughed again. “That’s what they call us.” he said, nodding his head up toward the house. “That is their opinion. I would call us ‘The Fun.’”
He looked me up and down. “You are beautiful.” he said with a smirk. “Though your wardrobe could use a little work.”
Not having any ideas about how to respond, I just stood there silent. He seemed snarky, but not threatening. Not having seen The Corrupt when they were in my office hunting me, he didn’t exactly fit my vision of the creepy sort of character I’d imagined.
“If you come to us, willingly, we will show you a good time.” he said. “Promise.”
He held out a card. “Call me. Anytime. I will come rescue you from this.” he said, waving his hand at the house like he was shoeing away a fly.
He stayed on the street behind the curb and held out a business card. Approaching him, I stopped just before the edge of the curb again. Reaching out to where he was holding the card in the air, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Hearing my heart beating in my ears and my shallow breath, I noticed just how blue his eyes were.
Quick as lightning he grabbed my hand. I felt a wave of terror, instinctively pulling back but unable to escape his grip.
“Relax.” he said, with his own posture and expression relaxing. As he smiled looked thoughtful, kind, and genuine. He didn’t seem to be pulling me his direction, so I complied. He leaned forward, and kissed my hand, softly, on the top of my knuckles.
Time continued to move slowly as I studied his face. He looked up at me as his lips rested on my knuckled, and the whole moment felt charged with an energy I didn’t understand. Clinging to the moment, I wanted to know more and to explore that feeling.
As I became aware of myself smiling, I remembered Peter. Feeling torn, I focused on my feelings for Peter, shoving the present moment away in my mind, and felt him release his grip on my hand. I quickly took two steps back, thankful for whatever force was keeping him from crossing into the yard.
“I hope to see you soon.” he said, locking eyes with me. Looking into his icy blue eyes, I felt lost in them for a moment. Turning and looking back over my shoulder, I watched as he walked away and disappeared down the street.
Running back up the pathway, I bounded up the porch steps and into the house. Slamming the door behind myself, I plopped down onto the bench just inside the door. I held my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat quickly.
I took off my shoes and my coat and ran up the steps to my room, closing the door behind me and locking it. Opening my hand, I stared at the card he had given me. It was a plain white business card with a single phone number on it. I walked over to the dresser, opened the largest nesting doll that was sitting on top and placed the card inside.
Sitting on the edge of my bed with my arms crossed under my chest, I replayed the event in my mind. I felt guilty for leaving the house when my dad told me not too, but I wasn’t sure that it was wrong. Nothing about the male underwear model looking guy felt wrong. I wasn’t sure I trusted him, but I wasn’t sure I trusted my dad either.
It wasn’t long before I heard the front door opening. I came down the stairs to find my Dad had returned, hanging up his coat and removing his shoes. I wanted to talk to him before he ran off again.
“I need to go to work tomorrow.” I said.
“I know,” he said. “But we need to discuss that. We will take turns protecting you while you work for the next few weeks, but we can’t keep that up forever. I have a business to run. I’m going to need you to hand in your notice.”
“But my career.” I said.
I certainly didn’t define myself by my career, but it had been such a huge part of my life for so long. I couldn’t imagine my life without my work.
“I’m sorry Emily.” he said. “If things had been different, if I had known, you would know how to protect yourself by now. It’s just not safe.”
“Okay.” I said. “Then what about my apartment?”
“Again, I’m sorry Emily.” he said. “I’m going to need you to put in your notice with your apartment as well. I’m working on getting your land-line number transferred over to a cell phone. You should probably give your mom a call. She left a message on your voicemail, worried.”
“What should I tell her?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to lie,” he said. “but I need for you to think of something to tell her without telling her about us. I believe you are clever enough to handle that.”
I felt sick.
“I’m so sorry Emily,” he said. “I know this must be very difficult for you. Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”
“Will you at least stop hating the idea of me and Peter?” I said.
He stood there, expressionless.
“I love him.” I said. “And I barely know you. I don’t understand what your problem is.”
He didn’t move, and he didn’t say a word. Grabbing the rail on the steps behind me, I sat on the third step from the bottom. I figured I would be there awhile.
A grandfather clock chimed in the living room. Several minutes passed. I looked down at the floor, finding his statue-like stillness unnerving.
“I don’t hate.” he said. “I just don’t want you, or Peter, to go through what I went through with your mom, Ellen.” He said “Ellen” breathlessly, and full of emotion. A tear trickled down his cheek. I had no clue he had felt so strongly. He’d spoken about it before like it was just something that “happened.”
“If you could go back in time,” I said. “would you have stopped yourself from seeing my Mom? Would you have never approached her?”
“No.” he said. “I’d do it all again.”
“I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t.” I said.
He looked at me and actually smiled. “I’m glad you are here. I truly am, Emily. It’s been painful all these years watching you from a distance, but never being able to speak to or even hug my own daughter.”
I got up from the steps and approached him. We embraced for a moment, and he stepped back.
“Should we make some sandwiches for lunch?” He asked. “And go eat them with Peter at the Jewelry store?”
I grinned and said “I’d love that.”
Things from that point on became less awkward in the house. My dad stepped back a bit with me and Peter and just stayed out of the way. Peter and I spent hours in front of the fire with our feet up, talking. It really softened the blow of losing my career and my apartment all at once.
I went into work that Monday morning and handed in my notice. Rick seemed taken aback at my explanation that I wanted to spend time freelancing, and that I had found some opportunities that I just couldn’t pass up. We had shared in so much success recently, he didn’t understand why I’d leave him.
On my lunch break I signed the paperwork to end my month-to-month rental agreement with the apartment. I did all of it with Peter quietly following me around everywhere I went. Forgetting I was the only one seeing him, I kept catching myself looking at him and smiling and then seeing him smile back but shaking his head at me.
While driving “home,” which I wa
s trying out calling it, Peter was sitting in the passenger seat with his hand on my thigh, with his pinky finger resting under my skirt. I thought of the “puritanical” description from the male underwear model looking guy and laughed.
“What?” asked Peter.
I looked over at him and smiled, and then back at the road, attempting to concentrate. Traffic was busy, with everyone getting off work.
We hadn’t exactly “gone all the way,” but there was definitely not a lack of heated, passionate encounters. Peter seemed to have the control to end things right when we started to take each other’s clothes off. I respected that, even thought it was bordering on a form of torture.
We arrived home to the smell of dinner being cooked. We followed the smell into the kitchen and found the table set. “Just pulling the bread sticks out of the oven,” said my Dad. “I’m ready when you are.”
Peter and I took off our shoes and coats and joined my Dad at the table. We were all in good spirits, and my Dad sure could cook a good meal.
As we were finishing up our plates, my Dad chimed in and said “I finally got word from The Elders.”
“Oh?” said Peter.
“What on earth are The Elders?” I asked.
“The Hall of Elders.” said Peter.
“Okay. What on earth is the Hall of Elders?” I asked. I pictured something out of a fantasy novel, with huge arches and wise elves with staffs lined up on golden thrones at the end of a grand hall.
“It’s like...” said Peter, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “It’s like we are a huge family, and the eldest of the family live together, and sit in a big hall making decisions about what all the children should be doing.”
“You forget,” said my dad to Peter. “that the children are also a part of those decisions.”
“Oh right,” said Peter. “The children are there, arguing with the elders.”
My dad laughed. “It’s not like that. Peter is just biased because he is the son of one of those elders. He’s still hasn’t grasped the larger picture.”
“There are nine elders, and nine children. The Children are all volunteers under the age of two-hundred that have committed to spend their time keeping up with modern day issues and informing the elders. The nine elders are simply the eldest known of our kind that are committed to serving the divine order. The Elders temper the children with their wisdom of the ages, and the children keep the Elders from losing touch with the modern world.”
“So what does that have to do with us?” I asked.
“We don’t have many laws.” said my dad. “We believe the divine order requires free will and incentives. The seedling is not forced from the earth, it is coaxed out by the warmth and the light of the sun. But, there are some base things we’ve agreed on as law. I have most definitely broken one of those laws with your mother, and Peter is questionably breaking one of those laws with you.”
“Because I’m mortal?” I said.
“You are, but you aren’t.” said my dad.
“A tiny bit mortal.” said Peter, chiming in.
I felt uneasy. “So there will be a trial?” I asked.
“Sort of.” said Peter. “It is more informal than that. We will all sit and talk for days, and possibly weeks. A consensus will eventually be reached, and hopefully it will end in all of us coming home and resuming our lives.”
“It will also include a plan for your education and training.” said my dad. “Traditionally I would take on that role. I’m hoping they don’t have any other ideas. It is possible I will be required to do something to atone for breaking the law.”
“It’s going to be interesting.” said Peter. “When are we going?”
“We’ve been asked to come as soon as Emily finishes her last day of work.” said my dad.
I thought about my upcoming birthday in February. My mom was probably wildly trying to get a hold of me by now. She usually insisted I come visit her for my birthday.
“My mom.” I said, completely out of context.
As if he’d read my mind, my Dad got up, walked out of the room and returned with a shiny new cellphone. “This phone uses your old land-line number.” he said. “You’ll probably want to be calling her now.”
I wondered how he’d pulled that off without me calling up the phone company and arranging that, but I kept my mouth closed. Excusing myself from the table I headed up to my room with the cellphone in hand.
Poking at the touch screen for a bit on the phone, I felt frustrated at how hard it was to find just the number pad to call people. I dialed my mom’s number.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hi Mom.” I said.
“Emily!” she said. “Finally! I was so worried about you.”
I bit my lip, wondering what to say. I was supposed to think of something clever, but I had nothing. “I’m just fine, Mom.” I said. “I’ve just been busy with work.”
“Oh sweetie,” she said. “I wish you wouldn’t work so hard. I’m guessing you aren’t coming up for your birthday?”
“I’m sorry Mom.” I said. “I can’t this year.”
“Oh, well, alright.” she said, disappointed. “I’m glad I got to spend Thanksgiving with you anyway.”
“Me too.” I said. “I had such a good time with you.”
“You take good care of yourself, alright?” she said.
“You too mom.” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” she said.
Holding the phone to my ear after my mom spoke her goodbye, I listened for a dial tone, then stared down at the screen at the menu. Flipping the phone over, I looked at the shiny white back of it, and then back to the screen again. After poking at the screen some more, I set it down on my side table.
I contemplated going back down the stairs to be with my dad and Peter, but a big part of me just wanted to be alone. Letting myself fall down toward the pillow like a tree that had just been chopped down, I set my eyes on the only familiar object in the room.
The nesting dolls stood side by side with their rosy cheeks and floral bonnets. Noticing the smile on their painted lips, I felt myself smiling. My eyes rested on the largest nesting doll as I remembered myself placing the white business card inside it.
Playing the event over in my mind as my head rested against the pillow, I remembered the icy blue eyes of the male underwear model looking guy. There seemed to be an ocean in his eyes, and as I saw them in my mind I felt a wave of emotion crashing against my whole being.
I let myself bathe in it for a moment and then shoved it away in my mind. What was left was an empty feeling, and I closed my eyes to escape the vision of the rosy cheeked nesting doll. Without intending to, I gave in to a deep sleep that took me far away from it all.
VII
The Hall Of Elders
I joined peter in the backseat of my Dad’s car. We had just finished loading our suitcases into the trunk.
“You aren’t going to both sit back there, are you?” Asked my dad.
Peter and I were both silent.
“Someone needs to sit up here with me,” he said. “I feel like a chauffeur all by myself up here.”
“Oh fine.” said Peter. He circled around the car and sat in the front passenger seat next to my dad. Looking out the passenger side window as we departed, I watched the houses on the street go by.
I was nervous. According to my Dad we had a three hour drive ahead of us before we’d be at The Hall of Elders, and my palms were already sweaty.
Peter shifted in his seat to face me. “Your heart sounds like it’s going to beat out of your chest.” he said. “Everything is going to be okay. Promise.”
Peter was so sincere, and such a comfort to me. I relaxed a little, smiled at him and asked “How do you hear my heart from all the way up there in the front seat?”
“I listen.” he said. He was silent for a moment and then said, “Emily, close your eyes for a minute.”
I closed my eyes.
“Fi
rst listen to the sounds of the car.” he said. “What do you hear?”
I slowed my breathing and listened. “I hear the sounds of the engine.” I said. “I hear the tires against the pavement.”
“Stay listening to the tires for a moment.” he said. “Concentrate on that.”
I concentrated on the sound of the tires.
“Now listen towards the west.” he said.
Without thinking, I diverted my attention to my left. We were heading north in the car, so the west was that direction. I heard a rush of sounds: cars whooshing by, a car’s turn signal making a clicking noise, a couple arguing about finances, a rush of wind through a trees branches, the caw of a bird, the rush of more cars, and then the roar and crashing of a huge ocean wave.
Gasping for breath, I realized that I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. I opened my eyes to see Peter turned in his seat looking at me.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“I heard the ocean.” I said, wide eyed.
Peter grinned. “We will be there, in just a few hours.” said Peter.
We were on our way to the Oregon Coast, to the Hall of Elders. I was looking forward to seeing the ocean though it was a very wet and cold time of the year for beach walking. I was not looking forward to whatever was waiting for us there.
I felt a bit dizzy from the sensation of hearing the roaring sound of the ocean in my ears. I managed a smile back though I was a little overwhelmed.
“You’ll get used to it.” he said.
My dad interrupted with a scolding “Peter.”
Peter turned forward in his seat.
“You shouldn’t be doing that.” said my dad to Peter. “She’s not ready for that.”
“I’m fine.” I said to my dad.
“Now that you went and did that,” said my dad to Peter, with an angry tone. “you can be in charge of helping her control it. She could go mad.”
“You underestimate her.” said Peter.
A Tiny Bit Mortal Page 7
