"I don't even know your name. Will I ever see you again?"
The man stared straight ahead and didn't answer. Ben bent his head down and stepped out of the car.
"Tonight was a warning," the man in black said in a low, deep voice. "Make a life for yourself while you have the chance. You can't change the past."
"How do you know about me?" Ben turned back.
The man looked up at him. He squinted as if in pain. "And get out of the Navy. It's not the place for you. The government will only fuck you. Get out now."
The man slammed the door shut and sped off, leaving Ben standing on the curb.
He made his way to his barracks and collapsed on his bed. His roommate was still out somewhere. Ben fell into a deep sleep but couldn't escape the night. In his nightmares the Samoans laughed as they whipped him. His foster father joined them, snapping the whip on his back and cursing him for letting him die. Murderer!
Then he fell off a cliff. The wind rocked his body but didn't push him back to safety. He screamed as he fell into the darkness. He tried to grab onto something but it was a black, empty abyss. Then a bright green light appeared above him. It grew larger and larger. He shielded his eyes as he fell, terrified. The green light rushed faster and faster toward him. It came for him. It would crush him just like it crushed his parents.
And he was headed straight to hell.
CHAPTER 9: 1988
Laura faced the lake to say goodbye. She would leave for college in a few days. And her whole world would change. This past week she went back and forth from feeling excited to scared to nervous. After being home schooled she had grown used to being alone in her own world. There had been some kids she hung out with through the home school association, but she never had any desire to see them outside of home school events.
And then of course, there was Mr. B. He had slowed down a bit this summer, as if old age had now decided to settle in. At seventy-nine she had to admit he did look old. It didn't matter. He was her best friend. He hadn't laughed as much since Scooter died many years ago. She suggested he get a new dog but he refused. She understood that Scooter had been one of the few things in his life still connected to his wife, so he had special meaning. Laura also understood you can't replace such a thing.
She stared out at the lake, leaning against her rock by the shore. Her mind raced with all she had to do before leaving for New Paltz University. She thought of all the cool college things she would encounter. Boys, parties and friends. What if she couldn't find her classes on the gigantic campus? What if she hated her roommate? She would have to hide her special powers. She didn't want people to see her as a freak. She just wanted to fit in. Would she?
Mr. B told her not to worry about such things. Worrying is a waste of time, he said. Just jump in and be yourself, he told her, and all will work out. Thank goodness she had gotten a scholarship to pay for most of her tuition. Her parents didn't have much. And it was only an hour away. An hour wasn't so far. But an hour could change her world. She could come home anytime. Right?
She smoothed down her long hair and stood up to stretch her arms out wide. She wasn't a tomboy anymore, but it didn't mean she liked the way she looked. She wished she had a bigger chest, her nose wasn't so turned up, and she wasn't so tall. Laura's long legs helped her tower over Mr. B and her parents. Mr. B told her that wasn't such a great feat as he was shrinking by the inch every year. He said she had become an old-fashioned beauty. When she asked him what he meant, he just said she had grace and style, and that with her big brown eyes and lively wit she could charm anyone.
She might never know where she got her height and looks from. But she hoped to someday. She still had hope a relative would come forward looking for her natural mother, Sarah, and find Laura instead. When she felt alone and unsure of herself she would visit the crater at the end of the lake and place her hands on the earth. Then she would feel connected to this someone who had crashed there all those years ago. In feeling his sadness it made her feel not so alone. To her, they were sad together.
She had covered every foot of the crater over the years hoping to sense new information, but never got more than her initial vision of the strange, sad man and the girl whose face she couldn't see.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to force away the headache coming on. She still hadn't outgrown them and learned to suffer through them. They remained unpredictable and so she accepted them as part of her.
She breathed deep again taking in the smells and sounds of her lake. Even Mr. B called it Laura's Lake. A smooth cacophony rose of cicada saws, crow echoes, rustling leaves, and the tapping of a lonesome woodpecker. It all blended with the smell of sun burnt grass. This would be her last sunrise for a while here.
She picked up her notebook and wrote. She wrote and wrote and not just describing the sunrise, for she had written hundreds of sunrises over the years. She wrote about how the lake came to be her home, her friend, her place to be her true self. It was her goodbye.
A car driving fast down the dirt road toward the lake disrupted her writing. She threw her notebook in her backpack and headed toward the overgrown parking lot. Who could be speeding in here at 6:30 a.m.? Mr. B's rusted Jeep bounced down the rutted road and shuddered to a stop in front of her.
"Laura, come on," he yelled out the window. "Sheriff Barnes just called me. There's a fire at your house."
She ran for the car and jumped in, leaving her bike leaning on the big rock. "Like the fire alarm went off from something burning on the stove?" Laura's lip trembled and she tried to blink back the tears that filled her eyes.
Jim slammed his foot on the accelerator, kicking up dust along the dirt road, and headed toward her house. They both smacked their heads on the roof. "Sorry about that," he said, then cleared his throat. "No, honey, I don't think so."
"Why? What did the Sheriff say?"
Jim's knobby hands gripped the wheel. "He said someone drove by and saw flames shooting out of the top windows and called the fire department. The fire truck is on its way there."
"But my parents…I left them asleep upstairs. Saturday is the one day they sleep in."
Laura looked at the trees flying by as they sped along. Jim put his hand on hers. She looked down and grasped it. His old hand looked like a carved piece of wood an artist had been working on for years and kept etching new lines into it.
"What if they were still asleep?"
She rocked herself as they neared her house.
"For all we know, they could have gotten out of the house."
"You don't believe that," Laura cried. "I know what you're thinking. I am too."
They heard sirens in the distance. Jim sped up as they reached the turn to her house. An acrid smell filled the air and they came around the corner to a fiery scene. Flames shot out of the first and second floors of the farmhouse reaching for the sky. Its angry inferno crackled through blackened wood. The windows glared a jack-o-lantern orange with black, thick smoke pouring out. The wrap-around porch still stood intact but then with a shriek the wood gave way. The porch rails splintered and smashed down.
Two firefighters sprayed the flames with water sucked from the pond to no avail. Their attempts made the fire angrier as the flames grew taller, spouting from every crevice. A second fire truck pulled in the shale driveway behind them, its sirens blaring as it wailed to a stop spewing rocks from its large tires.
Laura leapt from the Jeep, before Jim could roll to a stop, and ran toward the house. The ferocious heat hit her with a blast and a firefighter grabbed her.
"Wait! Stop, Miss!"
"It's my home! My parents are in there. You've got to save them!"
"We're trying but we can't get into the house yet. The fire's too fierce. I've never seen a blaze so explosive. If they're in there, we won't know until we get this more under control. Hang on!"
He held her to his chest and waved over the other firefighters coming from the second truck. Laura clutched his jacket and sensed his goo
dness, warmth, and sympathy. She wanted to hide in his wet, smoky jacket for a long while and feel everything would be okay.
"Please get in there soon," Laura whispered. The firefighter nodded and patted her back. Jim came to her side. The firefighter released her with a grim face and barked out more orders to the others. Another emergency helper brought them blankets and water.
Jim and Laura watched as the bottom floor windows exploded. The second floor windows had already blown out. Then with a wrenching screech the top of the house caved in. Only black timbers were left behind, pointing toward the sky in jagged spears. Jim pulled Laura back further to the road. The heat seared them in its growing intensity eating through the wood like a hungry savage. Flames engulfed the house. They watched it crumble completely and disappear into smoky rubble.
Jim squeezed her hand. The firefighters still hosed down the house shouting out instructions. Laura turned away. She didn't want to see her parents' burnt bodies through the dissipating smoke. She hoped they weren't in there. Maybe they left early to go to the store and get chicken feed or out to breakfast at the bakery in town…or something.
Cars now lined the road to watch the blaze destroying her home. People leaned through their car windows and stood on the side of the road shaking their heads and pointing. Shock stole over Laura. An hour ago she left here on her bike to say goodbye to her lake while her parents slept in their beds. All she had lived in this house. She believed it would always be here. And now it was all gone in one hour. If she hadn't gone to the lake she would have been here to save them.
"I can go back home and call someone for you, Laura," Jim said. "Who can I call?"
"No one. There is no one."
They had been a family unit of three strong and while they had ties to the community they stayed to themselves. They had been everything to each other, but at least Laura had Mr. B too. She was grateful for him. She wiped her face, streaked with charcoal smudges from ash and tears, and squeezed Mr. B's hand back, trying to draw strength from him.
Then she saw him. The man in black. He stood hidden in the trees behind the gawkers. He wasn't pointing to the house or talking to bystanders. He stared at Laura with his bright green eyes. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he hunched down. His black jeans and T-shirt stood out in comparison to the colorful summer clothes of the onlookers. But something was strange about him too. A pale glow outlined his body and he swayed in waves, as an image being projected on an outdoor movie screen moving in the breeze.
She ran from Mr. B toward the man screaming. "Who are you? Why me? Did you do this?"
The other people stopped talking to stare at her too. Then the man in black vanished. In a blink of her eye he just disappeared. She collapsed on the ground crying. Mr. B picked her up and held her. She broke free and ran over to the Fire Chief who was instructing his crew.
"When are you going in?"
"Just now, Miss. Please, stay back. This fire could re-ignite or cause an explosion."
The firefighters had doused most of the flames and moved toward the house. An acrid, burnt smell poured out of the scorched remains of Laura's childhood home. She hid her head in Jim's jacket and waited. After a while she looked up. The Chief walked toward them. He shook his head.
"We found two people. A man and a woman. I'm so sorry."
Jim hugged her harder. Two other firefighters carried out two long things with sheets over them. Laura doubled over with a cramp and holding her stomach, she stood up.
"I want to see."
Jim nodded. The Chief took her arm and helped her through the broken wood and glass and metal. All the things making up her life lay strewn and twisted in a smoking mass grave. Laura stood over the two sheets and the Chief lifted the top covers. It couldn't be them. She told herself she would never remember them like this. She forced herself to stare. She owed it to them. Tears flowed down her cheeks but she didn't make a sound. Then the stench overcame her and she turned away to gag.
"They may have been asleep and succumbed to the smoke before the fire got to them. We won't know until the coroner sees them."
Laura nodded and stumbled back to Mr. B to fall on her knees. A keening sound came from her like a wild animal. She wailed in grief, hugging her sides and rocked. Mr. B knelt with her. She sensed his love and anguish flow into her. His tears mixed with hers on the ground. With her powers she still couldn't save her parents.
She vowed from then on she would forget her powers and never use them again. And she would find this man in black. In the dark abyss of her grieving mind she also vowed she would leave this place and never come back again.
CHAPTER 10: 1998
Ben stood on the balcony and overlooked Waikiki Beach under the stars, breathing in the tropical air floating around him. It carried the intoxicating warmth of sea air, burning tiki lamps, and floral scents. Mixed together it would make any traveler feel excited to be here in the land of luaus, leis, and lava flows.
To his left stretched the lights of Waikiki leading to Diamond Head, rising in a crooked wave under the moon. To his right stretched a string of hotels filled with tourists and their dreams of Hawaii. And in front of him spread out the Pacific Ocean, sparkling black in the night and lapping at the shore where couples held hands and kissed.
Ben turned back to his room to unpack, feeling cynical in his candy-cane view of this place. He pitied the blinded tourists who came here to capture the romance of the islands. They saw the gloss, not the bile beneath. He almost didn't take this assignment due to the location, but seven years was long enough to try and forget. At twenty-eight, none of it belonged to his life now. He could be a tourist now too. He pushed his bangs aside, and stared at his red-rimmed gray eyes in the mirror. His eyes now matched the gray that had crept into his black hair years ago.
Tiredness hit him in waves. He felt the effects of the long flight here from Florida. But how different it was from his old Florida days. He admired the ornate room and tall vase of flowers on the dresser welcoming him from the Taylor family. He had come a long way from the dumps of Orlando and his discharge from the Navy.
The phone blinked red and he retrieved two messages, one from the Taylor family, wishing him a good night and inviting him to breakfast the next morning. The other came from his old buddy, Andy, inviting him to dinner the next day and threatening to kick his ass if he didn't show up. Andy got sent back here for a second tour of Pearl Harbor after sea duty and Ben wouldn't miss seeing him.
Andy had saved his life years ago when Ben needed a second chance. He went a little crazy after the terrible night up on the Pali Lookout. He wandered around the base the next day. Andy found him later sprawled out on the barracks rooftop with intense sunburn. It was the one place he could hide and see the entire sky spread above. Andy led him to sick bay.
The doctors talked to him but he just stared at them. He felt dead inside. After a series of tests and discussions about his condition, the doctor rubber-stamped his file "Personality Disorder" and the Navy booted him with an RE-4 discharge. It came as a friendly send-off but said loud and clear, "Here son, take an honorable discharge, but by the way you're unfit for re-enlistment. Not military material. Sorry."
Afterwards, he headed back to Florida and lived on his savings, supplementing it with doing package deliveries on bike between local businesses. He re-lived his days in the same dumpy motel before the Navy with Jack Daniels. He still had Andy as a friend but he lived three-thousand miles away, connected by a $2 a minute phone call he couldn't afford. He could afford Jack but still couldn't shut out the dreams of the lake. In the dreams he always ran along the shoreline trying to get back to his parents. And sometimes the meteorite chased him wanting to crush him.
He remembered the night he had stumbled out of bed, still half-drunk. The dream that night wasn't about the lake or the meteorite. He saw his parents clear for the first time since the night he ran away at nine years old. His mother played the piano on the front lawn of their house in New Paltz.
His father played the flute. They stopped and looked at him and holding hands, they walked toward him smiling.
"It'll be all right, Ben," his mother said in her soft way. "We still love you."
"You've got to live for us," his father said.
"Everything will be all right, if you want to live." His mother nodded.
"Do you want to live, Ben?" His parents stood in front of him and they each took one of his hands. He felt their touch. So warm, so real. He felt an unfamiliar feeling rising in him. He loved and he felt loved. It had been so long.
He then awoke and stood naked at his window overlooking the trash dumpsters. The moon shone down illuminating the scene. He knew this scene well. Drunks sleeping off their booze in the parking lot, rats raiding the garbage, and the poor sloth of life living all around him in an angry haze trying to exist in a depressing world. He fell to his knees and buried his head in the carpet.
"Yes, I want to live. Help me live."
He sat on the floor and stared at the moon. From the floor it was all he could see. It glowed with new hope in his window. When his head cleared and the sun faded the moon to a pale outline in blue, he called his old buddy, Andy. He had kept in touch with him along his drunken route. Andy had become an officer since he last saw him, after being recommended for officer training school. Yeah, Andy had done well.
"Yo, Ben, my man." Andy sounded wide-awake as if the night still ran young on his end, although he was hours behind Ben. "What's going on in the armpit of Florida? Still lazing around?"
"Yeah, well, that's why I'm calling." Ben grinned. It felt good to hear his voice.
"Let me guess, out of money and used up all the chicks there?"
"The first one is right anyways, but I don't need your money." Ben paused. "I actually need a job. I need something." His voice cracked. "I need..."
"I get it," Andy said in a serious voice. "Let me see what I can dig up and call you back. I know some people I can reach out to. Give me a day. You don't care where or what the job is, right?"
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