by T. Anderson
“What else could we do? He loves her, Aron. He’ll only do what’s best for her.” Three long seconds passed before he asked, “Now what?”
“Now we get to work. Grab those scissors over there.” Aron was filled with a determination like never before. She would do anything to protect her twin sister, as would Dane. She held up the photo of Stella as a guide for Dane as she watched her blond locks float to the floor around her.
16
Preparation
Vern left Stella in his car while he ran inside his apartment to get a few essentials. She appeared to be sleeping when he returned only minutes later. She hadn’t said a word. He parked behind the building and led the zombie girl down the steps, through the dim hallway and into the meeting room. He sat her down in a chair to set up camp and, when he turned around, he was surprised to find that she’d moved on her own and settled in an open area on the floor, assuming her meditation pose. He found it to be slightly disturbing. This couldn’t be normal behavior.
“Stella, what’s wrong? Tell me—what can I do to help you? Why are you doing this?” His series of questions went unanswered. He decided to wait and observe. For more than an hour she didn’t move. His thoughts drifted from her to the others—Erling, Gunnar, Petra, Cybele, Aron, and even Myra Hadrian. He tried to work on his plan, their plan. How would Stella be able to do any of it in this condition? Things were beginning to look grim.
************
Something stirred him from a dream. He’d fallen asleep, face-down on the table. Groggy, he looked for Stella. What time was it?
“Verner,” his name came from behind him. Without seeing her face, the way she said his name…it felt like déjà vu. It was his wife. “We’re taking a break to make sure everyone is safe.”
“A break from what, Stella?” he asked, confused.
“The preparation.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?”
“There is much to learn and not much time. It is the most efficient way for us to synchronize.”
“Synchronize?”
“We are one soul. But we have each only seen a fragment of the preparation.”
“Stella, I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying. I just need to know if you’re okay, if you feel well enough to carry on.”
“That is what we’re telling you. We need more time. Can you verify Aron’s safety?”
“Aron? Uh, yes. She’s fine.”
“Good. You are both very important to us. We know how you worry, Verner. Please don’t. Thank you for providing this sanctuary. Now we’ll continue our preparation.”
Vern was dumbfounded as he watched Stella resume her spot on the floor, close her eyes and turn off. Or should he say ‘turn on’? What was going on in that head of hers? And why was she saying ‘us, we’ when they were the only people here? What the hell did all of that mean?
“Stella? Is that seriously all you’re going to tell me? I’m just supposed to sit here and wait for you to—prepare?” She briefly opened her eyes for one last sentence.
“As you said, Verner, good plans take time.” And that was it.
Vern checked his watch. It was just after nine p.m. He made a quiet, quick trip to the nearest restroom and then returned. He couldn’t leave her alone. He dragged his laptop out of his bag and tried to do some work. Even later, when he laid his head down on his rolled up jacket to sleep on the floor, Stella had not moved.
************
The alarm on Vern’s watch beeped abruptly. Thankfully, he’d slept a few hours. As his senses wakened, he registered the sound of a keyboard clicking and a glow from his laptop screen. He was surprised to see Stella seated at the table above him at his computer.
“Good morning, Verner.” Her voice was soft and melodic. “We hope you don’t mind us using your computer.” Before he could object she added, “We’re almost ready.”
“How did you know my password?”
“We know much more than you would believe…even so, it wasn’t difficult, Verner. S. T. E. L. L. A.? Anyone who knows you would be able to guess that,” she giggled softly.
“Right,” he surrendered, a little embarrassed. “So, you’ve got a plan?” He was curious.
“Not just yet, Verner. Patience.”
He wondered to himself how the tables had turned. How had Stella become the wise, knowing figure, while he was left in the dark? She was not the young, naïve girl he’d met only weeks ago. There was a humble grace with which she spoke to him. A familiarity in her voice that he recognized, but was strengthened by the ages. He realized that she had become a collection of her former selves. A soul that had seen the past and was prepared for the future. He took a moment to honor her greatness. It was an undeniable miracle that he had the privilege of witnessing.
“I’m sorry, Stella. I won’t ask any more questions.”
“Thank you, Verner. You are a precious soul. One day you will be rewarded for it.” She smiled at him with such warmth, he felt that he would follow her to the edges of the earth and back again just to see it. “We know you are curious. We understand. Please know that we will only tell you what you need to know. It is for your own safety.”
“I understand, Stella.” He was entranced. “There must be something I can do.”
“You can return to work. You can provide guidance for Aron. She needs you right now. You can grant us your patience and allow us more time. We would be grateful for just these things.”
“And what about you?”
“We will remain in this sanctuary until we are ready to proceed.”
He wasn’t entirely satisfied with this answer, but he was under her spell. Vern gathered his things and bid Stella farewell. He promised to check in with her regularly. At her request, he left her with his laptop. Reluctantly, he exited the secret room to carry out his assignment.
17
Distraction
Evaluating herself in the mirror, Aron slipped on Stella’s Jackie-O style Gucci sunglasses. Before leaving the dorms, she’d insisted that Dane keep a safe distance away for a few days so people wouldn’t get confused. She became Stella. The first day was easier than she thought it would be. A handful of students in Stella’s classes made small talk, asking if she’d been sick, did she need to copy any lecture notes, that kind of thing. Simple.
Making the switch back to herself was a little tricky. She entered her dorm room as Stella, but after a change of clothes she exited with her hair in a loose, casual bun-type of up-do to hide the cut, her old Ray Bans and pink flip-flops. Abracadabra…Aron! Dane coordinated via text and he greeted her to walk her to her own class. Not one person in the dorm even noticed. She had everyone fooled. Smooth like butter.
The next day, while she was walking to class as herself, first she realized that she’d forgotten to put her short hair up. Shit! No time now—she was already late. Then Stella’s phone rang. Now this was becoming complicated. The caller I.D. said that it was P. Steinar. Petra! Aron’s palms began to sweat. Before she could talk herself out of it, she answered, reminding herself to say as little as possible. She closed her eyes and channeled her sister.
“Stella, dear, are you okay?”
Om Namah Shivaya…“Fine, Mother.” Did Petra know about Stella’s brain tumor? “Why?”
“Well, I haven’t heard from you. How is everything? How’s school? How is your…sister, Aron?”
This was just way too bizarre. “School’s…great. Aron’s…great.”
“All right, dear. You sound a bit off. How are you feeling? How are the headaches?”
Hmmm…how should she handle this? “I feel good, Mom. I’m late for class. I’ll send you a note later, ‘kay?”
“All right, Stella. Go to class. After all, it’s the reason you moved so far away. Hurry up now.”
“Bye.”
“I love you, Stella.” There was an exaggerated concern underlying the endearment.
“You too.” She hung up. Whew! Aron walked briskly to the buildi
ng where her genetics class was held, wondering if Petra suspected anything. She was aware that their accents were very different, so she had kept the answers as short as possible. She did the best she could. Before she entered the building she discreetly looked over her shoulder for Dane. If he wasn’t with her, he followed her everywhere. When he smiled and gave her a “thumbs up” she felt the knot in her stomach loosen a fraction of an inch. Thank God for Dane! She couldn’t do this without him.
Professor Hanson did a double-take when she walked into his classroom a few minutes late. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with her until he knew for certain that she was actually Aron. His mind raced for a split second, wondering if it was Stella; they looked so much alike now. Aron mouthed “sorry” to him as he continued the introduction to his lecture.
Aron opened her bag and realized she had one of Stella’s notebooks mixed in with her own. Suddenly curious, she took it out. Thumbing through the book, the first few pages were typical, ordinary notes. Then, the content seemed to change to doodles and random words. Aron flipped a few more pages until something caught her attention. She had already turned the page, so she slowly rolled the sheet back. Had she imagined it? No, there it was. Her father’s name—Gunnar— printed in big, bold letters. Question marks scrolled all around it, almost gilding his name with intricate decoration. Obviously Stella had spent a lot of time on this particular doodle. Aron examined the page more closely. Small, random words were jotted in the margins of the page: “hiding?,” “intentions?,” “legend?”
Aron stared at the page for what seemed like ten minutes. She’d had a feeling that Stella didn’t quite trust their dad, but the twins had never discussed it. Stella was probably afraid to talk with her about it—afraid of what she would think. Until now, she would surely have kept her mind closed to the possibility that Stella might be right. Looking at her writing now, after pretending to be her sister, made it easier for her to imagine that Stella’s suspicions were legitimate. There must be a reason why Stella questioned Gunnar. Aron knew that Stella had impeccable instincts. Once she accepted the idea, she allowed her mind to follow the trail. What would he have to hide from Stella? What were his intentions? What about the legend did Stella suspect? Aron didn’t have any direct answers to the questions Stella asked, but she remembered the subtle oddities that Stella must have noticed, as if seeing them through her eyes.
Aron hadn’t paid attention to Professor Hanson the least bit during his lecture and barely noticed when he’d finished. It was only the rustle of students moving from their seats that stirred her from her daydream. Someone next to her said goodbye. She smiled and waved, unable to speak. She looked up at Vern, who was doing the usual question and answer from inquisitive, over-zealous pupils. It was obvious that he was doing his best to rush through it and get rid of them. Aron collected Stella’s notebook and then collected her thoughts and tucked them safely in a corner of her brain before she headed in his direction. She wouldn’t be mentioning any of this to anyone until she knew more from Stella.
“Aron, how are things going?” Vern’s simple question was deeply clandestine.
“So far, so good.” She managed a grin.
“Good. I’ll be going to check on her later. Would you like to see her?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea yet.”
“You’re probably right. Let’s just wait.”
“Tell her I said ‘hi,’ and I miss her.”
“You could probably tell her yourself, if you tried hard enough.” She knew what he meant—through their special psychic connection.
“I’ll try. Thanks.”
“Aron, you’re doing the right thing.” He wanted to give reassurance to her doubtful expression.
“I know. Stella knows what she’s doing. She’ll figure it out.”
“Let’s hope sooner than later.”
“I gotta go. See ya, Doctor.” She texted Dane as she walked outside, “Dane. I need you. Meet me at dorm.” She was teetering on the edge and she needed his shoulder. She’d been through so much in the last few weeks. It was one shock after another. Right now she was worried about her sister’s fate. She was worried about her father’s motives. She had so many people relying on her, but didn’t know who to trust and which way to turn. Dane was her only lifeline.
Aron had worked herself into an emotional frenzy by the time she reached the dorm. Fighting tears, she threw herself into Dane’s arms. He held her tight for a moment before they made their way upstairs.
“Can we go to your room?” she asked. “I don’t want to see her stuff. I want to forget about it for a while.” She clutched his arm and leaned on him as he led her. Inside Dane’s room, she looked around. She squinted in the dim emptiness. Even in the middle of the day, he kept the blinds drawn. The room seemed so non-descript, so impersonal. She’d never been in his room before. She’d been curious, but there was never any reason to go. He always seemed to gravitate to her, everything revolving around the twins and their life. Shamefully, she realized how little attention she actually paid to Dane and his own life. She felt self-centered and vain and she was embarrassed. This made her feel even worse than she already did.
He sensed her sorrow and attempted to console her, holding her and gently kissing her closed eyes, her nose, her flushed cheeks. He combed his fingers through her butchered hair, acknowledging the sacrifice she made by cutting it. He was always so attentive to her needs, and she wanted to make it up to him. She wanted to show him how much she appreciated him. She wanted to make him feel important, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. There was only one thing she knew she could do to make him feel as special as he was to her. She wanted them both to forget all that was happening outside of this room and just lose themselves in each other.
Dane noticed the change in her movements as he held her and made every effort to deny her passionate advances. It wasn’t the ideal “first” he wanted for them, for her. He’d wanted something much more special for Aron. She deserved that. But how could he resist her right now, when she needed him so much? He wished he could take away all of her worries, all of her pain. And she felt so warm, inviting. She was so irresistibly beautiful in this moment. Unable to control himself and without thinking, his body responded to hers. When she awkwardly began to undress herself, he stopped her, slowed her, and continued with his own hands. Intending to let her forget everything else, he made it last as long as possible. He wished to stop the clock for her.
“I want you, Dane,” she breathed into his ear. Her hands explored his exquisite body in the places she had only imagined before. He fought to honor the ticking of the clock. His heart pounded desperately in his chest as he struggled to control it. Sweetly and deliciously, he handled her. She was giving herself to him and he was grateful. Aron had never wanted anything more in her life. The heat of a thousand fires burned in her throat, in her lungs, in other places she was just discovering.
“I love you,” he whispered as they began to make love for the first time. And it granted them both what they needed and longed for. They were encapsulated in space and time, just the two of them. A doorway to another world opened and they stepped through it, where nothing else mattered or existed. It was a space void of anything except their two bodies, entwined in pleasure and intensity.
Neither had a realistic concept of how long they had escaped for. They’d fallen asleep at some point and when Aron woke, Dane was standing at the window parting the blinds to a dark night. The moonlight illuminated his relaxed face and bare chest. She admired him as if he were a perfect, masculine sculpture displayed in a private museum that belonged to only her. She allowed herself a fraction of time to memorize him before she blinked and returned to their harsh reality. Dane’s momentary peaceful expression was lost when he looked her way. Both were forced back into the real world, but at least they were together—a force to be reckoned with, and even more in love than before. She went to him and pressed her angelic naked body against his back.
As she wrapped her arms around him, she imagined giant iridescent feathered wings unfolding from her shoulder blades, gracefully blanketing around them both. They didn’t need words anymore. They were beyond that, intimately connected by an invisible, unbreakable thread. It was almost as strong as the connection Aron had with her twin sister, but at the same time so very different.
When she analyzed the similarities and differences of these connections, her thoughts naturally gravitated back to her sister. As she dressed quietly, she focused her intentions upon Stella. It was not difficult. It was like dialing a phone number that only she knew—a direct line to Stella’s mind. When the link was made, she sat quietly on the bed and closed her eyes. Dane had an idea of what she was doing, so he didn’t interrupt.
In their minds, they spoke to each other.
“Stella…”
“Aron, here we are. You found us.”
“Yes, sister. I’m worried. About you, about us, about everyone.”
“Aron, hush. Your strength is much greater when you focus not on the worry, but on the love. You are a bright, shining beacon of love. Use your love to light the way. They will follow.”
“Who will follow, Stella? I don’t know who to trust.”
“The worthy will follow. You don’t need to choose. They will choose for themselves. Stay strong.”
“What about you, Stella? What will happen to you? I don’t want you to die. How much time do we have?”
“Time. Time. Time. Let go of your worry over time as well. It is not your keeper. We will be ready soon, sister. You can find us whenever you like…just as you’re doing now. We are never far apart.”
“I love you, Stella.”
“Love you, Air,” and their thoughts drifted like smoldering smoke on the wind, their tentacle fingers encircling back toward themselves. Aron found peace and a power to keep moving.
