When she found her son on the floor in the hallway, she quickly wrapped him in a blanket and asked him what had happened. He blamed it on a d-d-dream where he’d f-f-found himself s-stranded on the icy m-m-moon Europa f-freezing to d-death. He was somewhat shocked that she’d accepted the story.
It only took him about ten minutes to regain his composure and tuck the fear away in his abdomen. He hoped he could ease her mind and get her to believe in the lie he’d fed her. It’d helped his case when she realized that he was hungry. Not just “hungry,” but starved for something made with tomatoes. He asked her if she could make her special TNT sandwiches or “toast and tomato” as other people called them. It almost surprised him when she told him she had just been cutting up tomatoes for that very thing.
After they’d eaten together and he demonstrated that he truly was in full control of his motor skills, she left him for her evening entertainment shows. He was grateful for that because it gave him an opportunity to search the refrigerator for some more tomatoes. He found one on the bottom shelf, which he quickly abducted.
He watched his mother for a moment while he bit into the tomato like it was an apple. She flipped on the entertainment panel and tucked her feet beneath her while she surfed through the stations. She looked every bit as beautiful as the day he met her. He took another bite of the tomato and chewed it hungrily as he tried to remember what it felt like to kiss her.
“To kiss her?”
“Every bit as beautiful as the day he met her?”
Theo’s thoughts were suddenly confusing him. He looked down at the half-eaten tomato and then glanced back up at his mother.
His mother!
Why was he thinking romantic thoughts about his mother? Why was he thinking about kissing in a way that sons most certainly did not kiss their mothers? It was beyond appalling.
He was glad to see that she looked truly happy. He knew she was a strong woman and wouldn’t have allowed his death to destroy her. How long had it been?
“What the…” Theo shouted aloud.
“Theo?” she turned to him.
“I need to go out, Mom. Something’s wrong,” he groaned.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“No, Mom. No, I’m not okay at all.”
He burst out the door before she could stop him. The corridor was mercifully devoid of people as he barreled past the junk that littered the halls. By the time he reached the elevator, his thoughts caught up to him and reminded him that he actually had nowhere to go.
He turned around and faced the corridor he’d just run through. Marisa was rushing toward him, her brow furrowed in worry. He missed her so much.
“No!” Theo shouted, squeezing his head between his palms, “No, get out of there!”
“Theo!” she said, taking a hold of his wrists and attempting to fight his hands down.
“It’s Dad. I saw him and he did something to me,” he cried, fighting to get away from her.
“What are you talking about? What happened?” she demanded.
He finally opened his eyes and looked at the frightened woman in front of him. He finally allowed her to draw his hands away from his head. He then reached out and cupped her face in his hands.
“I never stop thinking of you, you know,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked, “I’m calling for a doctor.”
He barely heard the last word before falling to the floor unconscious.
Eight
The last time Theo woke up in a beige bed with railings, he was eight years old. He and Alastair had been climbing the cherry trees in Greenhouse II late one night. Alastair was way up high near the sprinkler heads picking the cherries that no one else dared to seek out. They were plump and colored in such a deep shade of burgundy that they almost appeared black with ripeness.
Theo was propped between two branches nearly ten feet off the ground. He held onto the bottom of his shirt, drawing it up to hold the cherries Alastair dropped down to him. The few he wasn’t able to catch would be waiting to be gathered when they climbed down.
Theo secretly popped another juicy cherry into his mouth and chewed the flesh away from the pit. He spit the pit out.
“Hey, no eating until we split up the bounty,” Alastair called down, “Here, catch this little branch.”
He tossed it toward Theo; perfectly avoiding the branch right above his head. Theo caught it and placed it into his shirt.
“And what’s this?” the voice of Buddy the Gardner boomed.
Buddy was over six feet tall and every bit of three hundred pounds – some of it presumably muscle. Everyone was scared of Buddy and that included Theo. He wasn’t sure exactly why he did what he did, but to this day, he swears that his body simply locked up in fear. His muscles went taut, causing him to instantly slip from the two branches he was propped between.
After what felt like a mile of falling, he woke up in a beige hospital bed. The doctors told him it was a concussion. It was the broken arm and the missing cherries that bothered Theo the most.
This time, Theo was waking to the sight of his mother talking to a nurse in the corner of the dimly lit room. He reached up a hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Looks like someone has decided to join the living,” Mrs. Titus called from the corner.
It wasn’t a nurse after all. The two approached the bed, his mother by his side and Mrs. Titus near the footboard.
“Mrs. Titus? What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Your mother was concerned once she heard what your diagnosis was,” she replied, “Like you, she remembered a ‘mad scientist’ who had some crazy theories.”
“What was the diagnosis?” Theo asked, turning to his mother.
“Do you have to ask?” his mother snapped, “One day without a job and you’re suddenly turning to drugs?”
“It’s not a-” Mrs. Titus started.
“I KNOW!” she interrupted, “I know what you claim, Mrs. Titus, but if your claims are true, then my husband is wandering around some form of hell for eternity. As you can imagine, I don’t want to believe you.”
“Dad isn’t in hell, Mom,” Theo said, sitting up in the bed, “He was right here in the same place we are, only everything was gray and time seemed to stop. There were no flames or devils with pitchforks”
She shook her head and then sat down in the chair beside his nightstand.
“I saw you cutting that tomato while I was still in bed, Mom. I was really roaming around Dad’s world just like all the other… the whatever.”
“That’s too creepy, Theo. Doesn’t it frighten you?” she demanded, “You looked at me like you were him. It’s like you were possessed or something.”
“Where does the sheol weed come from, Mrs. Titus?” he asked, “I’m sure you know more than you’re letting on.”
“I really don’t know, Theo. Your brother was supposed to find out for us, but he never returned,” she said, moving over to the other side of his bed, “Whoever gave the weed its name apparently had some knowledge of ancient Judaism and old Hebrew writings, so I’m fairly certain it was a human who coined the term ‘sheol weed’. Sheol doesn’t appear in the Christian Bible at all, but if the Bible were translated back to its original language, you’d find the word sheol used over thirty times. It was considered a place of the dead where people of the pre-Christian times awaited final judgment. I think it’s safe to assume that the weed was given this name because of the ghostly figures seen while under the influence.”
“So again, you’re claiming my husband is floating around in this Old Testament hell,” she said.
“It’s not hell. Judaism claimed everyone went there, good or bad. And besides, I’m simply telling you where that odd name for the weed came from. I in no way believe that people are actually going to this ancient underworld,” she replied, “You’re asking for answers and I’m just giving you what I’ve got.”
A young doctor entered the room just then. He offered a fabri
cated smile to Theo and then pressed an Evaluator to Theo’s forearm for the usual four seconds. It beeped, then displayed a bunch of code that only the doctor could understand.
“Was it as ‘exciting’ as all your friends told you it would be?” the doctor asked, “Did you enjoy not having any control for a brief period of your life? Do you like scaring your mother?”
“No need for the pep talk, kiddo. You’re Willy’s boy, aren’t you?” Theo asked, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get out of here and spend some time with my wife.”
Marisa rose quickly from the chair and rushed toward the door.
“It wasn’t me! I think Dad is doing something to me!” Theo cried.
“It’s alright. We just need to purge the weed completely from your system. There cannot be a single strand left in your stomach or intestines or that doorway you carelessly opened will stay open,” the doctor said, “And I’m sorry, Theo, but it looks like we can’t guarantee you’re clean unless we do the scrubbing. You won’t want to be awake for this.”
The doctor pressed an Injector to Theo’s forearm before he had a chance to reply.
“Don’t leave, Mom,” Theo called to her where she stood in the doorway, “It wasn’t me.”
“I know, honey. I’ll stay,” she said, but maintained a safe distance.
“You said ‘doorway’ a moment ago, Doctor,” Mrs. Titus said, “Can you tell me why you’d say such a thing?”
“We’ll talk in a bit,” he replied.
That was the last thing Theo heard.
Nine
After Theo woke this time, nearly a full day had passed. They were kind enough to permit him to sleep through whatever methods they used to clean his system. After he awoke, they kept him for another six hours of observation before releasing him to the care of his mother. As the law required, he would be given a thumbprint transmitter that he would be forced to use every three hours for the next week. Its purpose was to inform security that Theo was awake, alert, and alive during his week of drug probation. He would even have to wake up every three hours throughout night to press his thumb to the unit and hit the transmit button.
He would live the punishment of a drug-user for the next week even though for the first sixteen years of his life, he’d never even contemplated touching any form of illegal drug. He accepted the penalty though since he did put his mother through a couple days of heartache. Besides that, if he missed a thumbprint check-in, he’d be spending forty-eight hours in jail.
When his mother escorted him down corridor three of level fourteen, Theo noticed something that made his heart flutter for only a second. As they veered around a portable basketball hoop, two battered skateboards, and the ubiquitous trashcans, the girl seated at door number fifteen rose from the ground.
“Did you give him that weed, you tramp?” his mother jabbed an accusing finger toward Jill, “I don’t want you around here.”
“Theo?” Jill prodded; her arms crossed and looking to him.
“It wasn’t Jill, Mom. Back down,” he said, resting his hand on his mother’s shoulder, “She was long gone before anything bad ever happened.”
“How long gone? A minute? An hour?” Jill asked while Theo’s mother continued to inspect her.
“He found me. I never would have even considered such a thing,” Theo said, “The bearded bum who’s always wandering around outside the pubs.”
“I know, Theo, and I also know that by this time next year, you’ll just be a vapor of memory like your brother. You’ll exist only in the words and the memories of those who relied on you. You’re leaving and no one is going to stand in your way,” she said, inching closer to him.
“What are you talking about?” his mother demanded.
“Alastair was his hero growing up. Theo thought the world of him until he left. To Theo, that was the most cowardice thing anyone could ever do when he had a family who relied on him. Theo wrote his brother off and decided that it was now Marisa and Theo against the world. Mother and son together; strong, loyal, and alone,” Jill said, inching closer and causing Theo to step back, “But then the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. His brother had been investigating the biggest secret in the solar system and Theo finally realized it wasn’t just a bunch of crazy accusations.
“The ships were leaving Earth and they were headed somewhere beyond the solar system. They were loading up on our water and trading more than what we even required of them. They didn’t care because they were never coming back. They understood that there would be others to follow in their footsteps, so they couldn’t risk sharing any secrets with the local filling station. Let’s face it – if the local filling station closed up shop and headed off in the same direction as everyone else, who would be there to support future endeavors? The Oort Station was needed and the citizens of the station needed to be kept in the dark to the very end. Am I right?”
Both Theo and his mother stared at the girl who was still blocking the door to their home.
“Actually, that’s a little more than I gathered, but I think you’re on the right path,” Theo said, “If my mother has accepted that you’re not the enemy, I’d really like it if you came in. I’m sure we’ve got iced tea and there’s always my mom’s famous homemade pretzels.”
“Theo…” Jill said, closing the distance between them, “Please don’t leave me. You’re the last person on the entire station to believe in me.”
Her face was barely an inch from his. Her hands were resting on his hips. The door opened behind her, confirming that his mother had unlocked it and was already heading in without them.
“I still believe in you, Jill. Always have and always will, no matter where I am. Why did you ever stop believing in yourself, though? Why did you-”
She pressed her lips to his, kissing him with a cautious tenderness. His surprise existed barely a second before he took advantage of something he only ever imagined in the privacy of his thoughts. He took her in his arms, cradling the small of her back and drawing her body to his. The kiss she offered was less vigilant now as she took his face in her hands.
“Why?” he whispered when their lips separated for a moment.
He gently kissed that pouty bottom lip he’d always loved.
“I never imagined the concept of truly losing you,” she breathed against his lips, “I had somehow invented this story where you came to visit me on twenty-six all the time because you loved me.”
He drew his lips from hers and looked at her.
“I… I did. I looked forward to seeing you any chance I could get,” he said, kissing her again, “I was just too stupid to know what that feeling was. You said yourself how ignorant I was. Now I wonder when I started loving you.”
“Innocent. I said ‘innocent’, not ignorant. It doesn’t matter though,” she breathed, “I quit my job that day. I just need for you to tell me why I did that.”
He pulled away from her, resting his hands on her hips as he looked into her eyes.
“Because I love you, Jill, and you’ve probably known it longer than I have,” he said.
. . . .
“So, what’s the plan then?” Jill asked, tracing a line into the sweat on her glass of iced tea.
He’d just shared with her the story of the one-tank ships that the bum on twenty-six warned him about. They sat at the kitchen table with an open bag of pretzels between their glasses.
“We only have a few options and none of them involve staying at the Oort Station. We can hitch a ride to Earth and try to start a new life there. I don’t have much faith in that idea because we don’t know anyone there and we know absolutely nothing about survival on Earth,” he said, “We can hitch a ride to Ophidian and start a new life in one of the human colonies there. While I think we’d definitely be able to find work there since they’re still building the colonies from scratch, I don’t relish the idea of sharing a planet with a species that is rumored to have some hi-tech alien race searching the galaxy for them.”
So when the time came that the Ophidians were able to escape from the computer slave masters, they didn’t encounter much resistance. It was known, however, that the Gods of Pli would eventually become aware of the Ophidian’s escape and thus would one day return to wreak vengeance on the peace-loving creatures.
“But Earth has vowed its military support and armaments to the Ophidians. Haven’t we already shipped them enough armed aircraft and satellite weaponry to circle their globe?” Jill said.
“Yeah, but I think the Ophidians were a powerful and technological race when the Gods of Pli enslaved them. In that case, our technology and weaponry probably doesn’t stand a chance. I don’t have much faith in anyone’s ability to fight off this mysterious species should they ever decide to recapture a race of escaped slaves,” he replied, “Anyway, I’d just rather not live on Ophidian as long as the risk is there. Besides, we have one other option. We could hitch a ride to this mystery world where all the ships are headed.”
“To a mystery world whose main export is a drug with backwards DNA,” she said, taking one of the pretzel rods from the bag.
Alastair (Ghosts of Ophidian Book 2) Page 5
