The Watchers

by Lynnie Purcell

  “We don’t need to eat. Our bodies absorb energy differently…and metabolize differently. It’s really quite fascinating. See, what happens…” Daniel coughed and shook his head at her. I sensed it was more to keep her from launching into a complicated explanation then to keep something from me. She nodded and changed the subject. “We do go to the store for the sake of appearances, but I can’t stand the waste, so we give it to the less fortunate. People don’t connect our shopping trips to out donations. I’m afraid, though, that we don’t keep much food in the house.”

  Daniel held up a can. “We have beets.”

  “Pass,” I said.

  “I forgot about those,” Beatrice said. She wrinkled her nose, and I noticed how young she looked. She was either extremely lucky to age so little, or something else was going on.

  Encouraged by her kind tone and my curiosity, I asked the question before I thought about the possible answers, “I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you pass as anyone’s parent? You look so young…”

  Daniel put the can back into the cabinet and stood, giving up on his search for edible food. “They wear makeup when they’re out in public and wigs that make them look older. Although, that’s sort of a double edged sword,” he said as he sent a teasing look in Beatrice’s direction.

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “They overact being old. Despite Beatrice’s stint posing as a man in Shakespeare’s acting company – she got all the best female gigs – she hasn’t learned the art of downplaying a role. Personally, I think it made her worse.”

  “Shakespeare?” I gasped.

  Beatrice waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, don’t be so impressed! He had the most appalling hygiene habits and, honestly, was a bit strange. Artists…”

  Though her comment was bizarre to hear, especially in her matter-of-fact tone, I latched on to the more bizarre issue. “Watchers don’t age…we don’t age.” I turned to Daniel. “You don’t age.”

  Beatrice gave us an understanding look, and started to walk away. “I’m going to go call for pizza. Is pizza good?”

  “Just cheese please,” I said as I stared at Daniel.

  “Already done,” she said.

  “Well?” I demanded, my hands on my hips

  “We age, and we certainly die, it just takes us longer,” he answered.

  “How much longer?” I asked. “How old are you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What if you think it’s weird?”

  “You’re worried that of all the weird things I’m learning about you, I’ll hate you for your age?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He stepped away and turned his back to me.

  “Trust me?”

  “I do trust you,” he assured me quickly, turning around. I thought he wasn’t going to tell me, but then he continued very quietly, “A hundred of our years are roughly a year normal time. Last November, I met the hundred year mark. So, I guess that makes me about eighteen biologically.”

  My heart thudded uncomfortably. How could he want me? How could he want a stupid, sixteen-year-old, kid? I was a molecule compared to his universe.

  “Is it as horrible as the expression on your face suggests?” he asked.

  I shook my head and rushed to correct his misunderstanding. “How on earth can you find me interesting? I’ve not really begun to live yet. I haven’t even made it out of high school. You’ve seen so much, lived so much…how can I compete with that?”

  He let out an explosive breath. “Somehow, your thoughts always manage to surprise me. The thoughts I hear from others never compare to things you say.”

  “You can hear thoughts?” I asked, excited.

  “All Watchers can hear human thoughts. It’s part of who we are. We can only hear each other’s through touch, and then, only if we let the other person in.”

  “I sort of figured the last part out,” I said then added, “So, I’m not alone? You can hear what people think as well!” Someone else understood!

  “I knew it! I knew you could hear thoughts!” Daniel’s pleasure at being right changed to a frown, and he muttered, “Which doesn’t make any sense.” He shook his head. “To get back to your question, my age and my experiences have nothing to do with what we have. I mean they’re important, yes…” he trailed off. “Look, I am who I am. It doesn’t matter how old I am. Besides, I really don’t feel that old.”

  “As long as you don’t think I’m boring or anything…”

  “That would be impossible.”

  I knew nothing was impossible, but I also knew he was right. I liked his personality, not his age, and as long as the former didn’t change, I couldn’t see why I should have a problem with it. Besides, if we lived as long as he suggested, I would accumulate my own years and experiences.

  “Why is it strange that I can hear thoughts?” I asked over my thoughts.

  “We can’t hear thoughts until after the change. The change is a defense mechanism, so we stay hidden. It also keeps us from being able to start fires or snowstorms at the age of two, simply because we want a chocolate bar or something.” He shuddered slightly at the thought. “Seventeen is when the time code embedded on our genes kicks over, and the angelic genes become dominant. The fact that your powers are developing before the change is very puzzling.”

  “Oh.” I lifted one shoulder slightly in a question. “I feel like I’m getting so many answers but understanding so little.”

  “We should stop talking about it, for now at least. Baby steps.”

  “Are you calling me a baby?”

  He smirked. “You act like one.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Name a time.”

  “Not wanting to accept my jacket, because the act is too chivalrous for your tastes. Arguing with me even when you know you are wrong. Or how about going into the woods when I explicitly warned you not to?”

  “And you don’t act like a brat!” I retorted. I could see by his expression he was enjoying this. “Sneaking up to my room when I’m getting dressed! Bossing me around every chance you get! Or acting all superior when you win at something – like it would be possible for you to lose!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re stubborn,” he responded, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

  “Am not!” I retorted stubbornly.

  “Are so!”

  “Am not!” I insisted.

  “You seem sort of stubborn to me,” a different voice replied.

  I looked beyond Daniel at the new voice. Jackson walked into the kitchen, as confident as I was stubborn. His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his square face was changed by his smile. Daniel and I were forced to step apart to let Jackson’s large form into the kitchen. I had been right. Seeing him up close was extremely intimidating.

  “Overruled,” Daniel said.

  “He’s just agreeing with you ‘cause he’s your friend,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Jackson said.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Daniel confirmed.

  “Margaret called and said she noticed another Seeker hanging by little miss stubborn’s house,” Jackson said. He reached out across the space and playfully ruffled my short hair. His familiarity was surprising, but I liked it. I realized in that instant that Jackson was a gentle giant. He, above the others, even Daniel, was the most natural around me.

  Daniel closed his eyes, concentrating hard. “She won’t encounter the Seeker.” His eyes snapped open. “I need to go to the hospital.”

  “What? Why?” I demanded.

  “I saw Susan. They’ll try to kill her tonight, unless they see it’s not worth the effort. Though, for some reason, the person that will make the attempt is obscured.”

  “Why was Margaret near my house?” I asked, accepting the truth of his words.

  “We all take turns standing guard, ever since Daniel began to suspect what you are. The Seekers know where you live…and we are all dedicated to protecting the innocents who can’t change their role in this war.” Jacks
on answered with a shrug.

  Daniel scowled at Jackson, annoyed. I stared at Daniel. Daniel found my eyes and stared back, his face resolute. “What? I’m not going to apologize for protecting you, or for wanting to stop people who are cold blooded murderers.”

  I crossed my arms. I was touched by the gesture but annoyed at the same time. I had explicitly told him I didn’t need to be protected like that. How long had he suspected what I was, anyways?

  “You don’t happen to have any other superpowers I don’t know about. Like super hearing?”

  He clamped his lips together and didn’t answer.

  “We do, in fact, possess better than normal hearing,” Jackson replied helpfully.

  Daniel held his hands out, his face upset. “What happened to brothers sticking up for each other?”

  “This is funnier,” Jackson replied. He turned back to me. “We’re also very strong, and we heal when hurt. Oh, and we can breathe for a long time underwater before we need oxygen…but I think you figured that out.” I felt a blush threatening. “Did I leave anything out?” he asked Daniel.

  “Just go. I don’t need your kind of help,” Daniel grumbled.

  Jackson smiled playfully then left the kitchen, aware of the havoc he left in his wake.

  “How much have you overheard and how angry should I be?”

  “I really need to get to the hospital,” Daniel said ignoring my question. “Do you want to wait on your food, and let Beatrice take you home, or do you want me to drive you?”

  I scowled at him, not wanting to do any of his suggestions. Beatrice and Han walked through the doorway saving him from the verbal lashing I had been preparing. They were both wearing lab coats and had markings around their eyes as if they had been wearing goggles.

  “The pizza man might take a while, and he’ll most definitely get lost. People always seem to have trouble finding us,” Beatrice said.

  “You can take me home,” I told Daniel. “Thanks for ordering the food, Mrs. Adams.”

  “You’re very welcome and please, call me Beatrice.”

  “Come back and see us,” Han said giving me a brief sideways hug.

  “I will,” I promised.

  Daniel threw his arm around my shoulders and steered me towards the door, giving his parents a serious look. Beatrice nodded once like she understood what he was telling her. For people who couldn’t read each other’s thoughts without touching, they did a lot of facial communication. Daniel paused next to the front door. “You don’t have a jacket. I forgot. I left it around the Ranger.”

  “I’m fine.” I mimicked his superior tone, “I’m tough. I can handle it.”

  He snorted and opened a small door to the right. As he opened it, I felt my jaw drop. The jacket closet looked less like it was a closet and more like it was a shopping center specifically for jackets.

  “Spill on aisle five,” I joked. “Did you get a discount for buying in bulk?”

  “Pick one. It doesn’t matter which.”

  I saw his letterman jacket hanging near the front. I moved towards it then hesitated. Since when was I all for the school colors? Besides, it was his jacket. He had earned it. I didn’t want to take it from him. Noticing my hesitation, Daniel took it off the hanger and held it for me to put on.

  “I don’t want to take your jacket,” I protested.

  He shook it commandingly.

  I sighed, knowing I would lose this particular battle, and let him help me into it. I smiled happily as the soft fabric kissed my skin, and Daniel started laughing. “Dork,” he accused me.

  “Proudly,” I said.

  He picked out a leather jacket and casually threw it on. It left an immediate impression. With the leather jacket over the dark band shirt and the casual blue jeans he was wearing, he looked like a rock star. I stared at him, wondering how I hadn’t seen this side of him earlier. He looked sort of rebellious. And, suddenly, totally, my type.

  “You’re ogling me,” he whispered, draping his arm over my shoulders again.

  “I really am.” I waved my hands vaguely. “I stopped judging you as a jock, but I never saw how rebellious you really look.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want you to see it. It’s the front I put up at school, so people don’t look closer. But…I want you to see the real me.”

  He opened the front door for me with a smile. As he paused to shut the door again, I took in the scenery. The front of his house was closed in by the forest, except for a gravel drive and large stone front steps. Bushes, that looked as if they were eager for spring, made the woods feel more manicured than an average forest.

  Daniel led me down the sweeping stone steps toward his black Audi. “You’re into indie rocker guys, who have a hint of mystery and rebellion up their sleeves then?” he asked sardonically, teasing me.

  I raised an eyebrow mockingly. “You’re just missing the tattoo on your forearm and the sap story about how you bought your first guitar.”

  “If I did have a tattoo on my forearm, what would it say?” he asked, a funny expression crossing his face.

  “Something mysterious, of course, like a song lyric, or a Chinese symbol, that means peace or balance or something profound.”

  He opened the car door for me, his green eyes full of laughter. As I got in, I looked past him and saw that his house was made entirely of stone and dark slate. It had dead ivy branches crawling across that would look like moss on the stone in the spring and summer. Even in the dark light of evening, it was extraordinarily beautiful and seemed to fit the Adams’ simple, but grandiose, way of living. Staring up at it, I felt as if I had just stepped out of a fairy tale with Prince Charming and was preparing to drive out into a reality that was far less beautiful.

  “What if I told you I did have one on the inside of my wrist that no one ever notices?” he asked as he slammed his door shut.

  “I wouldn’t believe you.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “It would make you too perfect.”

  He smiled. “I would need a motorcycle as well right? Black and silver?”

  “Hm….” I looked at him and felt the tension boiling up between us again. I hadn’t thought it possible to find him cuter, but I did. “A motorcycle wouldn’t hurt. But you’d still need the guitar.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said seriously, pushing a button on his visor. A black gate across the dirt road silently swung open at his touch.

  “I was just kidding,” I laughed.

  “You’d be surprised how much of that really is me, though.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

  We were silent for a moment as I worked hard to control the thoughts I was having about him. There were more than a few.

  “Alex is going to call you when you get home,” he said into the silence.

  “What about?”

  “She heard about you. One of the hunters we met up with is a friend of her father. They mentioned you were the one who found the Ranger. You’re going to get an earful, but you’ll handle it gracefully.” His voice was certain.

  “You mean you didn’t tell them it was you?” I asked.

  I figured he had lied and told them he had saved the woman and had found me wandering around, or that we had been together…or anything but the truth.

  “Well, no. You saved her life. I wouldn’t take that from you in a million years. I still remember the first person I saved. That never fades.”

  I put my head against the head rest and closed my eyes. “I understand that. It’s just that tomorrow is going to be miserable.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll have to hear all of the kids thinking about it, wondering how I found her, and then there will be the stares, and the questions, and the people who will be suspicious, because I was supposed to be recuperating from getting blown up today, and it’ll just be miserable...”

  “I didn’t know I was doing all that,” he said trying not to laugh. “I promise you won’t hear anything when I’m a
round at least. Doesn’t that sort of make up for it?”

  I’d forgotten about that. “Speaking of that…Why can’t I hear when you’re around?”

  “I sort of do it on purpose.” He saw my expression and hurried to explain. “I know how hard it is when the gift first develops. It can be overwhelming. When I saw you that night in town I thought I recognized what you were going through. I didn’t know for sure, but whenever I was around you, I kept up the…protection, thinking it couldn’t hurt. Just in case.”

  I wacked him on the arm, and the car swerved across the dark road. “Hey!” he said trying to exaggerate the hurt to his arm.

  “Why can’t you just teach me how to do that for myself! Then I wouldn’t need you to do it for me!”

  “I didn’t know for sure you could read thoughts until today.”

  “Oh.”

  He pulled to a stop, and I blinked in surprise. I looked at my sprawling house, which had every single light on except for the ones in my attic. “How’d that happen?” I asked.

  “Time flies by when you’re having fun.” He stared out at the forest, his eyes thoughtful.

  “Daniel?”

  “Yes, Clare?” His voice was a silky purr, and my heart started thumping wildly.

  “I’m sorry for making you leave yesterday,” I said. “For acting weird after the vision.”

  “I can’t remember a time when you didn’t act weird,” he joked. “You were overwhelmed. I get it,” he tacked on. He opened his door and got out. I followed him slowly, not eager to end our time together. We walked across the lawn in silence, our body language a strange mixture of calm and tension. Was he as reluctant to leave as I was to let him? He stopped at the stairs and faced me. “I respect you helping Susan, but please don’t go into the woods again,” he begged.

  “I won’t,” I promised.

  “Right…”

  There was an awkward pause, the most awkward since we’d been together. What was he thinking, and why were his eyes so hard to read all of a sudden? I couldn’t stand the tension – I had to act. I let the screen-door slam back and stepped down the two stairs separating us. I grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him. His surprise didn’t last long. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me back. I didn’t see any visions or feel a ‘joining’ of emotions. I simply felt his lips on mine and his electric touch against my skin.