A Human Element

by Donna Galanti

  She called Mr. B and told him everything and asked if she could stay with him for a while.

  "As long as you need, my special girl." His voice shook a bit on the phone. At eighty-seven, he had grown older in body but his mind remained sharp and Laura could still count on him. "You can have the loft all to yourself. This guardian of yours must know more than we do. Believe in him and believe in yourself."

  "I'm just afraid for you."

  "For me? Why, silly girl?"

  "Everyone I love dies. I fear something will happen to you too."

  "Bah! I'm eighty-seven and if I can't help out a dear friend then what is a useless old man to do? I've lived my life. I have nothing to fear."

  "Mr. B, what would I do without you?"

  "Probably have real friends your age that aren't old farts with arthritis who need a nap every day."

  "Never. Youth is so overrated."

  "Well so is retirement. Just get on over here and stay as long as you want. I only request a fresh pie or two in return."

  And so Laura quit her job. She packed up her clothes and books and left New Jersey on a sunny, September day. And here she sat by the stop sign. She came here to heal and find answers.

  She turned the car right and drove up and over the hill. For a moment she was confused as to where her home had been as there sat a modern, colonial with a wooden play set in the side yard. A little girl sat on the swing pumping her legs to go higher and higher. The barns were gone but the rock wall remained. From the road she could see the apple trees in the orchard bursting with fruit. Two boys played basketball at a hoop in the paved driveway that replaced the shale one Laura used to dig around in looking for arrowheads. She drove by slow and the little girl waved.

  A funny feeling came over Laura. She didn't quite recognize it. And then she did, and smiled. Peace flowed through her, knowing a family lived here. Maybe the little girl climbed the same tree she did and sang to the mountains in the distance. She waved back and turned around to head toward the lake. Mr. B would be expecting her.

  Ben checked into the Catawba Bed & Breakfast Inn on Main Street in Coopersville. One of the Northeast's largest catawba trees towered over it in slumbering grace on the front lawn. Its giant leaves covered the historic inn with deep shade as birds and squirrels dashed about its limbs. It had its own habitat within its great branches. A world of its own, mused Ben. Like mine.

  The innkeeper, Rosemary March, was a chatty woman whose large hips swayed up the stairs as he followed her to his room.

  "So you used to live here, dear?"

  "Many years ago," Ben replied to her wide bottom. It filled the staircase from side to side.

  "What brings you back after so long?"

  "Work," he lied. "I'm a writer and photographer and doing research for a book."

  More like research for my life. "I'll be coming and going a bit, so no need to pay attention to whether I'm here or not."

  "Ooh, how exciting," Rosemary huffed, nearing the second floor. "No worries, your privacy is of the utmost importance. We're so glad you returned, and to stay with us. And to pay two whole weeks in advance! Plus you are our only guest at the moment. Well, here we are!"

  She let Ben into a bright room splashed with yellow and burnt orange. He bent his tall frame to fit through the old home's short doorway. A cool September breeze blew through the open windows across a four-poster queen-size bed covered in a patchwork quilt. Sunlight flickered across the sunflowers on the antique dresser.

  "I hope you enjoy your stay. If there is anything I can help you with let me know. I'd love to do research for your book." She smiled at him with a wink, and swished out of the room.

  Ben set his bags down and looked out the window at the town. It hadn't changed since he and his parents stayed here at the lake cabin on vacation. It remained a small town tucked away in the southwest part of Albany County in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. Eighteenth and nineteenth century architecture graced Main Street from the days when the Dutch had settled the area over two-hundred years ago.

  He still never understood why his parents wanted to vacation in another small New York town. This was a hamlet, not a bustling town like New Paltz. Perhaps being so rural, the cabin rentals on the lake had been affordable. He guessed they had been lucky to go on vacation. He recalled, from his nine-year-old mind, they didn't have much in the way of money. He couldn't ever remember buying new clothes or a bike or toys with his mother. He had hand-me-downs from neighbors or cast-offs from the thrift shop in town.

  It was noontime and he didn't want to waste any time. He would take the waterfall path to the lake. The place his parents died. He envisioned stepping out from the woods to the wide-open lake. He hoped to feel something. What, he didn't know, but it had to be better than years of feeling nothing.

  Ben adjusted his hiking boots and set out for the end of Main Street, traveling along the uneven stone sidewalk. He stopped at the old gristmill and peered into the woods. There stretched the path he remembered. A tiny wooden sign stuck out of the ground, askew, pointing hikers toward the Coopersville waterfall and lake. The lettering had become so faded it was hard for tourists to read it. He guessed not many tourists came to this sleepy town anymore.

  Orange and crimson leaves blew down around him, twisting and turning to their end. Fall blew in early this year. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stretched his lean body upward with a deep breath, enjoying the earthy smell poking up from dead leaves and grass. Then he stepped onto the narrow trail that would take him back in time.

  CHAPTER 15

  Laura sat cross-legged on the grass staring at the log in front of her. Her eyebrows scrunched downward in deep concentration and her mouth pursed in a tight line.

  "Arghh!" She stood up. "I can't do it. I can't make it move."

  Jim chuckled, facing the lake in his fold out camp chair. "Laura, you can't expect something to come back instantly you haven't used in nearly ten years."

  "I know, but I don't know how my powers worked before so how can I make them work again? What if it was just an adolescent thing?"

  She flipped her hair back and put her hands on her hips, tapping one foot. She stood a picture of beauty before him. Her glossy hair fell in waves at her shoulders and her graceful curves twitched with energy and vibrancy. Jim gazed at her in adoration and wished he were a young man again. She turned and smiled at him, her large eyes widening. Yes, he would fall in love with her in a heartbeat if he were sixty years younger. He looked at his gnarled, shaky hands and sighed.

  "I used to just wish and ask for things to happen, maybe that's it! Could it be so simple?"

  "Isn't that what you've been doing?"

  "No, I've been telling the log to move, not asking it."

  "Hmph…of course it makes sense you would have polite powers, doesn't it?"

  "Polite indeed." Laura laughed. "Perhaps it's a delicate relationship between me and the object I want to move."

  "Like a give and take. A shared bond."

  "Yes."

  Laura sat back down in front of the log, seated sideways from Jim. This time she closed her eyes. A slight smile spread across her face. She glowed to him and he watched her in fascination. He hoped she could do it. He stared at the log in front of her. It quivered. He blinked, not sure if he'd imagined it. There. It did move. The log shook, and in a dance with the air, it lifted off the ground to hang, trembling above the grass. It hovered and moved toward the lake as if on a conveyor belt. It sailed over the waves lapping toward the shore.

  Jim took in a sharp breath.

  Laura opened her eyes and gasped. The log stopped and fell into the lake with a splash.

  "I did it, I did it!"

  You certainly did, Jim thought in amazement, shaking his head in wonder.

  "Thanks." She grinned at him.

  "You heard me!"

  "I did, and it's the first time in years. It's almost as if being back here has opened up my senses again. I've
gotten fuzzy thoughts from you for the last couple of days. They've been a jumble. A word here and there. But today they have crisp edges."

  "Then to be in control of it is a powerful thing." Jim leaned forward. "And knowing you can control it gives you immense power."

  "I know."

  Jim had forgotten the amazing things she could do. Then he remembered her saving his life long ago in the orchard. "I wonder if you can still heal."

  Laura stood up and brushed her hands off from the grass. "I don't know," she admitted, staring across the lake, her back to him. "I've only tried once in all these years. The night I tried to save Moe."

  "Yes, sorry, I didn't mean for you to think of it," Jim apologized.

  He recalled the hysterical late-night phone call he got from her about Moe and how shocked he had been at her horrific experience. He could provide Laura with no comfort except to listen, as he had no explanation for what happened. He had always been in awe of the mysteries surrounding her. She had special powers for a reason and sensed she would need them in the future to save herself. He didn't want to think of it, but he sensed the time drew near.

  "I'm so afraid." Laura crossed her arms, hugging herself. She turned toward Jim. A gust of wind blew her hair about in a veil, hiding her eyes.

  "What is there to be afraid of here in the middle of nowhere?" Jim joked. But he felt disturbed as well. He didn't fear for himself, but for her.

  "What if this evil man comes after the people I care about again? He'll come after you."

  "Bah, I told you, I'm not afraid."

  "I am," Laura said in a low voice. "What if I can't save you?"

  "You must save yourself. You are stronger than you think, my dear. Besides I have to believe good wins out in the end over evil."

  "Yes, I hope so. Maybe all this will be my final battleground." She swept her arms around her in a wide arc. Golden leaves spun down around her from the trees and she laughed, catching them.

  "Maybe." Jim grinned. "And a lovely battleground it is. Especially in fall."

  "How can I leave all this?" She turned to him, hair gleaming in the sun. "And you?"

  "I realize I'm quite a catch but what you need to focus on is your powers."

  "I will. And one other thing." Laura moved to Jim and knelt on the grass next to him. "I want you to help me find out who my real parents are."

  Jim cocked his head at her and buttoned up his barn jacket. The day was turning colder. It would be a hard winter, he could feel it. Maybe Laura would be here to share it with him too. It would be nice to have company for a change.

  "Why do you want to go digging around in that muck after all these years? You had two loving parents."

  "I know." Laura shivered from a cool gust and stared at Jim with wide, sad eyes. "But I also know the way I am is because of where I come from. It's in my genes, can't you see? If I know where I come from then maybe I can stop all this death around me. I need to know who this man in black is and the man that stalks me. I know they are connected to something that happened the night the meteorite struck here. And we both know it wasn't a meteorite."

  She folded her arms around her knees and rocked on the ground. Her bottom lip trembled.

  Jim put his arm around her shoulder. "I'll help you, you know I will. Don't make such a foofaraw, my stout-hearted maid. Could I ever say no to you, my precious lass?"

  Laura looked up and laughed. "Ha! You've been studying your thesaurus, sir. And I thought you were impervious to my nefarious charms."

  "Well, yes, I had to dig the book out of the back of my shelves. And wooed by your charms would be more like it." Jim smiled, but then frowned. "It's not you who are nefarious, my keen girl, but the brute you seek to destroy before he kills again."

  "I think he is the darkest of evils. I've seen him in my dreams covered in shadows. Someday I'll have to face him in person and it terrifies me. The man in black wrote to survive I must be what I am. But I don't know what that is. And just how the hell can I find out? Now why doesn't he leave a note about that? Directions would be most useful."

  She bent her head to her knees.

  "Laura, I don't know." Jim took her hand. "All I can tell you is we'll face this together. You work on your powers and I will help you dig into your past. Maybe answers will come with discovery. For starters, we'll find the doctor and nurse that delivered you. I know he moved down into Albany years ago. I think he retired. And he can tell us the nurse who was there too. Tomorrow we'll start on our mission, okay?"

  Laura nodded and squeezed Jim's hand. They sat in silence for a long while staring at the geese that flew low across the lake. She was the only person in his life he loved. He accepted her and believed in her.

  And he would kill anyone who tried to hurt her.

  Ben strode upwards along the rocky path, paralleling the waterfalls glinting under the sun. He had taken the longest path that wound through the woods for a mile then turned toward the falls. He was glad he wore his oldest jeans, now splashed with mud, and pushed up the sleeves of his rag sweater as he warmed up from his hike. A chill crept in with the early afternoon shadows and he blew out frosty air as he reached the top of the falls.

  Standing on the bridge that crossed over, he gazed down at the rushing water. It swirled and raced under him, falling hundreds of feet in a roaring deluge. After the drop, the water traveled down jagged rock in a series of wide ledges. Leaves blew down and the water snatched them up speeding them along to new places. Recent heavy rains gave the falls an angry feel to them as if the water called, "Hurry, hurry, we must go! Move along now!"

  He crossed the bridge and continued heading up through the wooded path toward the lake. It was a long time to remember his way. Crickets called to him and acorns plunked down as geese honked overhead on their trip south for the winter. Before long, the woods dropped behind him and the lake spread out before him in a sparkling expanse.

  His life had changed here in an instant. All the years since the night the meteorite hit the lake flashed through his mind. All the things he had to survive. Things he wouldn't have had to survive if his life wasn't changed forever here one night.

  He scanned the lake's serene edges. A few cabins remained hidden in the brush like ghosts floating in between the trees. Vines blended in with the roofs and windows, snaking in and out, covering them in a permanent embrace. Something moved in the trees. Ben peered closer and walked along the lake's overgrown path to get a better look. Then he heard singing. It rose and fell over the breeze, but carried to him sweetly by a young woman's voice. He recognized it from his teen days. Corey Hart's 'Never Surrender.'

  "…So if you're lost and on your own you can never surrender, and if your path won't lead you home, you can never surrender. And when the night is cold and dark you can see, you can see light…"

  Ben saw the woman now. She stood magnificent, high up in a giant birch tree with her feet planted shoulder-width apart. Her arms spread outward gripping the branches. She flung her shoulder-length chestnut hair back and sang to the sky with her eyes closed. Her face moved in complex expression with each word she belted out. She looked as though she flew in her mind over the trees toward the sun.

  He moved closer to stand a few feet below her. The leaves shook wildly in the tree around her in a gleeful dancing rhythm to her song, even though there was no breeze. Ben was enchanted. She was part of the tree. A nymph of the wood. A goddess of the earth with the sun streaking through her hair. He reached for his camera and shot a photo of her as she belted out the last line, then he joined in.

  "Cause no one can take away your right to fight and n-ever surr-en-der-er!"

  The woman opened her eyes wide in astonishment and her feet slipped. She tried to regain her balance, but slid along the trunk in a spiral toward the ground, grabbing onto the closest branch to stop. Ben ran over and grabbed her around the waist just before she hit the ground. He set her down with ease. She was tall but he still looked down at her.

  "Sorry about that
, I didn't mean to startle you." He grinned. "Are you okay?"

  "Oh, I'm fine." The woman blushed. "I guess you caught me, literally."

  She laughed nervously and looked up. Ben stared down at her, still enchanted. She was the one, the girl in his dream by the lake. And here she stood in real life before him at the lake.

  He leaned over, plucked a leaf from her hair, and handed it to her. "A souvenir."

  "For what?"

  "To remember the first time we met."

  "What if we don't meet again?"

  "We have to. I wouldn't miss another concert, would I?"

  She accepted the leaf and laughed. "I'm Laura Armstrong, by the way." She brushed the remaining leaves off her jeans. Ben noticed she first tucked away the leaf he gave her in her fleece jacket pocket.

  "Ben Fieldstone." He couldn't stop staring at her. She had such large, brown eyes dusted with long lashes.

  "So what are you doing here in the middle of nowhere, Ben Fieldstone?"

  "I could ask you the same thing, Laura Armstrong," he shot back.

  She peered sideways at him with a half-smile and spread her arms out at the lake. "I grew up nearby and used to come to this lake all the time. My friend, Mr. B, calls it Laura's Lake."

  "I like that. Laura's Lake. And do you always serenade the lake by tree limb?"

  "No, it's just I used to do that as a kid and wanted to see how it felt to do it again." Laura blushed again and bowed her head. He wanted to touch her again. She was so lovely.

  "Hey, I'm just teasing you. I liked it, and I love Corey Hart. I'm an eighties music fan."

  "Me too." She smiled at him

  "I'm sorry I ruined your moment, I just wanted to see the lake again. I used to come here years ago with my parents on vacation." He saw her looking at his camera. "I came to shoot photos of the lake."