A Chance for Charity (The Immortal Ones)

by S. L. Baum

  “I thought you’d never get up,” I teased as he walked toward me. His outfit mirrored my own, pajama pants and a white tank. “You look so cute,” I smiled.

  “I could say the same to you,” he flashed that brilliant smile and kissed my forehead.

  “Eat,” I instructed, placing a stack of pancakes in front of him. “Then we’ll meet James and Catherine in the Game Room.”

  “The Game Room?” Link questioned.

  “You’ll see... eat,” I repeated.

  As soon as Link placed the last syrup laden bite into his mouth, I grabbed his arm and led him down a flight of stairs to the Game Room.

  “The previous owners had a bowling alley put in. We saw no use for one, so we had it converted to this,” I said as I opened the door and spread my arms open wide.

  The heavy clang of metal hitting metal immediately rang through the air. Link’s jaw hung open as he watched Catherine and James sparring, swords in hand. His eyes swept the room, taking in the open floor where they stood, the target wall (with knives and throwing stars haphazardly protruding from it), and lastly the shooting range.

  “This is a Game Room unlike any other,” Link whistled.

  James and Catherine stopped their match, swords in mid-swing, as we entered the room.

  “James is an excellent swordsman and Catherine is a willing partner. I, on the other hand, tend to stay away from swords and lean toward daggers, stars, and guns,” I explained.

  “I thought you said you had a fear of knives, scalpels, whatever,” Link looked at me incredulously.

  “Yeah, doesn’t make sense, I know. I found out I have remarkable aim with a gun, any gun, so I decided to try my hand at throwing daggers one day. Well, it proved to be quite gratifying and that led to the throwing stars as well,” I said, pointing to the wall of weapons.

  Link remained still, thoughtful. His eyes rested on a dummy, with daggers jutting out from various body parts. I waited.

  “We may be Immortals, but we have only the conventional means of protecting ourselves. Our luxury is that we have had years to perfect our skills and our senses tend to become more finely tuned as time passes. Practice makes perfect,” James smiled.

  “So, the lesson for the day is don’t mess with an Immortal,” Link gave an awkward laugh.

  “No, the lesson for the day is – teach Link how to use a weapon,” I corrected. “As a means of protection only,” I quickly added.

  “If you are going to remain with us, we need to know that you will be able to protect yourself,” Catherine put in.

  “Okay, I’ll be the student. What’s my first lesson?” He asked with a steady voice.

  “Guns or sharp objects?” I presented his choices.

  “Sharp objects I guess,” he answered, with forced nonchalance.

  “Goody! Let’s start with the daggers,” I bubbled with excitement.

  “That’s kinda weird,” Link said. “You are giddy... about daggers.”

  “Stand back and watch,” I ordered.

  I preferred to throw at a simple archery target. Yellow was the central color followed by rings of red, blue, black and white. I removed five daggers from the wall and walked across the room, stopping about thirty feet from the target. With five swift, consecutive movements I hurled the daggers toward the target, aiming carefully. A low whistle escaped Link’s lips and he walked over to the target, examining my work. The first dagger had hit the yellow part of the target - dead center, the second in the red ring, third in the blue ring, fourth in the black ring, and fifth in the white ring. All five daggers made a perfect horizontal line across the target.

  “Impressive,” was all he could utter.

  “I’ve got powers,” I smiled.

  “Awesome powers,” Link smiled back. “Teach me.”

  We spent hours in the game room. First - an education on the types of daggers, swords, and knives that we preferred to use. Next - practical application - which instrument was best in a particular situation. I preferred the “boot dagger” in most situations. James was partial to a sword or a cutlass, being well trained in both. Catherine held no preferences, she was devastatingly good at everything.

  Finally - I handed the knives to Link. I showed him how I held the dagger, where I placed my thumb and fingers. I tried to explain the flick of my wrist, but told him it may be different for him. He flung the first one, hitting the target at seven o’clock in the black ring.

  “Not bad, for a first try. Keep practicing,” I encouraged.

  “I keep thinking it will be like throwing a dart, but it’s completely different. I have to approach it with a unique mind set,” he sounded frustrated.

  “Practice, Link,” James said. “Later, after lunch, I’ll show you the basics of sword fighting.”

  “Do you think swords are really necessary?” Link asked.

  “It takes a good sized blade to remove a person’s head. Swords are necessary,” James answered.

  “You know, last night you said we should all just act normal. This is decidedly not normal,” Link concluded, and then threw another dagger.

  The following week of school was harder to get through than I thought it would be. It was finals week and I was in no mood to study. Math was the only subject that I really needed to review, everything else would unlock from the recesses of my memory as soon as I read the test question. But math, never seemed to come out on its own. It required hours of cramming information into my brain. Link proved to be a skilled study partner. He quizzed me on formulas and gave me sample problems to solve. Math was his favorite subject in school, he said. Masochist.

  Summer and Delilah were desperately trying to find out what was going on with me and Link. The fact that he was waiting on Colorado Ave., every day after school, just added fuel to their fire. During every spare minute of school time they were grilling me with questions. “Why is he there every day?” “Is he even working anymore?” “What is going on with you two?” “Are you in love?”

  I answered the last one with complete honesty. “Yes,” I said to Summer and Delilah. “I think I am.”

  “Wow, Emily, that’s so cool,” they chorused.

  “It’s like he was put on this earth just for me,” I added, giving away more information than I was used to.

  “That’s really intense,” Summer responded. “I don’t think I could say the same about Rusty. I mean – I love him – I do. But to say he was made just for me, that’s really saying a lot. I’m happy for you though.”

  “Oh, me too,” said Delilah. “I think I’ve got Burke convinced to apply to colleges in California with me. I really want to go back to living by the beach and Burke keeps saying he can’t live without me. How sweet is that!” Delilah gushed.

  “That’s great Delilah. I hope you find a school you can both attend,” I encouraged. Burke would likely cross an ocean just to be by her side.

  On Friday, our last day of school before Christmas Break, I gave them each a silken jewelry bag that Catherine had sewn for me. Inside the bags I had placed the leather bracelets. They loved them, especially after I explained how I had found them in an antique shop in Montrose, on a shopping trip with Link.

  They gave me a sparkly red box tied up with a big gold bow. Snuggled inside the box was a little silver, heart locket. I opened the locket to find a picture of me on one side and Link on the other. I stared at the pictures, wondering when they were taken, and then remembered our first ski day. Burke had pulled out his cell phone at lunch and had snapped a few pictures – then handed his phone to me so I could take one of him and Delilah. The sight of my smiling face almost startled me. I had become unused to seeing candid shots of myself. My posed, fake name, identification pictures (that were later deleted from whatever system they were in) were all that had existed for many, many years.

  My eyes misted over. “Thanks guys,” I sniffled, “This is really great of you. I love it.”

  “See,” Delilah said, taking the locket from my hand. “When yo
u close the locket your faces are touching each other. You are kissing - forever!” she squealed, opening and closing the heart for emphasis.

  “You are such a goof Dee,” Summer admonished her friend. “You’re welcome,” she whispered in my ear while giving me a hug.

  “I’m really lucky to have friends like you,” I mumbled and grabbed Delilah to include her in our now group hug.

  Moving to Telluride had been the best decision James could have made. We would make it work here. I wasn’t ready to run, yet.

  Saturday morning was spent in the Game Room, again. I was desperately trying to compel Link to become more comfortable with throwing stars. He kept saying there were too many sharp edges on one small instrument. I chided him, playfully, and showed him my two favorites, a six blade and a three blade, folding models. Once folded, they were compact enough to fit just about anywhere, undetected.

  “Do you actually carry these?” Link asked, shock present in his voice.

  “I usually have the three blade with me,” I admitted.

  “Everywhere you go?” He wondered.

  “Yes,” I simply stated.

  “I never would have guessed.”

  “That’s the idea,” I smiled, trying to put him more at ease. “I’ve always thought all guys found martial arts weapons to be... well, exciting. Why the hesitation?” I asked.

  “They are. If I were with a bunch of friends, trying these out for fun, it would be very cool. But here you stand, the woman I love, telling me that you carry a weapon on a daily basis, for protection. It is just a bit unnerving. I really wish you didn’t have to do that. I wish we could just live without that fear hanging over us. I just wish this was not a lesson based on need,” he explained.

  “You love me?” I whispered looking down.

  “Yes, I’ve told you that before,” he said.

  “No, you’ve implied. But you’ve never said it that plainly,” I pointed out, keeping my eyes focused on the floor.

  Link put his hand under my chin and raised my head. He captured my eyes with his own, and declared, “I love you, Charity.”

  “I love you too,” I bubbled with joy and wrapped my arms around his neck. Love had finally found a way to sneak back into my well guarded heart.

  Link held me firmly, stroking my hair. “That’s good to hear,” he murmured softly in my ear.

  After a few moments, spent basking in the glow of newly acknowledged love, I was ready to get down to business.

  “Can I please show you how to throw these now?” I asked.

  “Right back to business,” he commented.

  “You can only put me off for so long by telling me you love me,” I teased.

  “You are bad,” Link cried, displaying a fake pout. “I am wounded.” He clutched his chest.

  “Poor baby,” I soothed, “What can I do to make it better?”

  “A kiss?”

  “A kiss,” I agreed. “Then back to the weaponry.”

  “Absolutely,” Link promised.

  I raised myself up on my tip-toes to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He bent forward to receive it, but with a fierceness that shocked me. My head leaned back as my arms twined up around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His lips on mine, were so soft, so right. A current surged through my body, exiting at the tips of my fingers and soles of my feet – a lightning shock. I gasped for air, he parted his lips, deepening the kiss, taking my breath away.

  I pulled away, breathing heavy, lightheaded.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he smiled.

  “That kind of distraction won’t deter me either,” I murmured, catching my breath. “No matter how good you are at it.”

  Link smiled brilliantly, “At least I know you liked it.”

  “Yes,” was all I could say.

  It was weirdly appropriate that A Perfect Circle’s Weak and Powerless was playing on the radio at that exact moment. The lyrics kept repeating in my head... sometimes I felt absolutely weak and powerless when it came to my feelings for him. Then Glenn Miller’s Fools Rush In popped into my head! It was amazing how many songs I could find to sum up the moments of my life, in a few lines of lyric.

  The Game Room door opened, I quickly composed myself, embarrassed at my body’s actions. It was as if I had no control of myself when it came to Link, and I had to admit that it bothered me a little.

  “What are we doing today?” James called out.

  “Throwing stars,” I answered. “Come show Link how it’s done,” I challenged him, throwing a star across the room, aiming for his head.

  James, with his remarkable reflexes, easily caught the star with his thumb and middle finger.

  “Amazing,” Link breathed as James quickly flicked his wrist, sending the star back across the room and into the mannequin’s head.

  “Your turn,” I said, handing him a star.

  Link tossed it toward a target, it thumped as it hit, and then clanged - striking the ground.

  “Again,” was all I said handing him another, and another, and another.

  We repeated this process for an hour with James and me offering tips and critiques along the way. Fairly soon he was hitting his mark.

  “This is kinda cool,” Link smiled and I tossed him a star.

  But I shouldn’t have tossed it.

  “Crap,” I grimaced. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid – I tossed it without thinking. I was used to practicing with James and Catherine, not with a person that could sustain a real injury – a person who could bleed.

  The blade sliced across his palm as he tried to catch it. Blood immediately pooled in his now cupped hand.

  “I’m so sorry,” I cried out, rushing to his side.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark,” he tried to joke, but his face puckered. I knew he was in pain. “You wouldn’t happen to have a first aid kit Doc?” he addressed James.

  “No, we’ve got something better,” James said walking over with a towel to sop up the blood and assess the injury.

  “This is going to be one of those something different about Immortals moments, so be open minded,” I warned.

  James took a dagger and sliced into his own palm. Link’s eyes widened but he remained still, not making a sound. James held his palm open, letting a few bright red beads of blood build up and then took hold of Link’s hand with his own. He grasped firmly. To any outside observer it would appear as a handshake, a greeting or a thank you between friends. James released Link’s hand and again used the towel, this time to clean up any remaining blood. Link raised his hand and examined his gash. But there was no gash. Only a minor scar remained where the gash had been.

  “Incredible,” Link whispered. “Thank you,” he grabbed James and hugged him... clearly grateful. Then he turned to face me, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”

  “I don’t know for sure that I can,” I answered.

  “I’m sure she can. Catherine is able to,” James explained.

  “I don’t understand,” Link looked at me.

  “I’ve never wanted to try. Self inflicted wounds and all,” I muttered turning my head away.

  “Okay, I understand,” he said plainly, hugging me tightly, and kissed the top of my head.

  “It’s pretty cool though,” I admitted.

  “Yes it is. How long have you known that you could do that?” Link asked James.

  “Many, many years. I found out during the war,” he said.

  “Which war?” Link asked.

  “How much have you told him?” James asked me.

  “He knows nothing about you or Catherine, before I met you in San Diego. I figured your story should come from you,” I explained.

  “Mortal age wise, you look older than Charity. Does that mean you are older? I mean, will she eventually look twenty-five or thirty?” he asked.

  “No, Link, I will always look this age,” I stroked his arm.

  “The aging process just stops at an arbitrary age. We really do not know why. Charity was around tw
enty when it happened. I had aged around thirty years and Catherine... somewhere in-between,” James explained.

  “Were you together when it happened?” Link asked James.

  “No we didn’t cross paths until years later. Come, let’s go upstairs and sit. I’ll tell you my story, it will answer many questions, and also explain how we came to be aware of the Lord family,” James opened the door and led the way to the kitchen.

  I got us all a drink, grabbed a bag of pretzels, and we each took a stool at the kitchen counter.

  “Ready for a history lesson?” James asked.

  “Fire away,” Link answered.

  chapter ten

  HISTORY

  “I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The year was Eighteen Hundred Twenty,” James began.

  “My God,” Link breathed, “that makes you a hundred years older than Charity. I never imagined.”

  “Yes it does, Link. You’re quick on the math,” James smiled. “My father was a Professor of Law at Harvard, my mother a school teacher. Education was prized above all in my household. At an early age I was taught and encouraged to read. My parents brought all varieties of books home for my young mind to absorb. A journal of medicinal practices caught my eye when I was twelve and a fascination with all things medical in nature ensued. I was determined to become a doctor.

  “My father, on the contrary, was determined that I become a lawyer and trained me as such. After exiting Harvard as a lawyer I worked in my given profession for a few years but still yearned for medicine. In Eighteen Hundred Forty-Six I moved to Boston and entered the Massachusetts Medical College of Harvard University, as it was called at the time. That was the last year that the Medical College was located on Mason Street near the Boston Common,” he paused.

  “I’ve been there, to the Boston Common, it’s beautiful. I went with my parents when I was eight. Harvard Medical used to be there? I never knew that,” Link commented.

  “Many people don’t,” James said, then continued, “It was my good fortune to witness one of the first surgeries performed using ether as an anesthetic. In October, of that year, a man was administered ether before surgery. A blood vessel tumor was then removed from his neck. I knew at that moment, without a doubt, that I would be forever fulfilled in my chosen profession of medicine.