Ren The Complete Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  “When Dahlia died, I told her she couldn’t say goodbye because that’s not something you say when you’re going to see each other again,” I say.

  Trey gives me a sturdy look, one that says so much. A lifetime of wisdom radiates in his glassy eyes. Then he extends a hand. “Goodbye, Ren,” he says, his voice cracking.

  Without hesitation I slide my hand into his, cupping the other side with my opposite hand. “Goodbye, old friend,” I say.

  I’ll miss you, he says in my head, using my telepathy linked to touch to send a final message.

  I simply smile in return.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I feel like I’m on a fucking goodbye parade. It’s getting old and I’m glad it’s almost over. Yes, goodbyes are permanent. And even I admit they’re not always fun, but there’s something fresh about farewells. It’s a transition. A change. An act of subtraction and that’s not entirely bad. With that comes an opportunity and I’m hoping that’s what my absence does for the people in my life. Let’s face it, all these blokes have become too bloody dependent on me. I’m probably enabling the entire lot. I’ll just have to hope they can cope without me, but I’ll console myself with the notion that the world will probably go to shit anyway, so whatever.

  I sold the gaudy mansion in Malibu. It was Dahlia’s house before it was ours and she’s in every corner of that space. It wasn’t difficult for me to be there, but I read the agony in Pops’s eyes when he didn’t think I was watching him. He’d sit staring at the couch where Dahlia often sat curled up reading a book. I knew by the expression on his face that he was seeing her, like a ghost resting in her old spot. Dahlia is gone and yet she haunts her own home for the people still alive. Adelaide said that she could have sworn she heard Dahlia singing in the hallway, but then realized it was just the wind chimes ringing through an open window.

  Now the Lewis clan are all residents of the Institute. Adelaide wanted to work as an agent full-time so she could earn the experience to be assigned harder cases. And Pops wanted Adelaide to have Lucien around her as much as she desired, so it just made sense. The setup isn’t a chic mansion nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains, but in some ways I think it’s a better home for everyone. No, Lucien can’t run in the grass regularly, but he has something that Adelaide never had, a community of Dream Travelers whom he’ll grow up with. They’ll teach him how to hone his powers. And Pops, who never appreciated Dream Traveler societies, is now shifting his perspective gradually. Regularly I’ve found him in the Main Hall at a dining table, having a lively discussion with a Lucidite. He finally admitted to me, “They’re just people, like me, like your mum.”

  However, Lucidites aren’t just ordinary people. They are ones who were specifically recruited by Trey because their powers are unique and they own a pride in creating a better world. Lucidites, I’ve found, are atypical in their approach to living. They aren’t afraid to risk it all to create positive change. Lucidites are the cornerstone to this world, but no one will ever know that. These are people who don’t want credit for doing what they see as a service. They are the only people who aren’t looking for compensation for risking it all.

  I enter our flat to find Pops on the ground with his eyes covered. He pulls his hands down. “Peek-a-boo,” he says, shoving his face in Lucien’s direction, who doesn’t look at all impressed.

  “I know,” I say to the child. “He really thinks you’ll fall for that. Maybe if he had bigger hands the trick would be more believable.”

  “Ha!” Pops says, pushing up to a standing position. “He loves it.”

  I throw a fond glance at the plaid armchair in the corner, which I wish I could take with me. Our residence isn’t as big as Trey’s, but there are three bedrooms and a living room. It works. And soon they’ll have an extra room to use as a study or art room or whatever.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Pops says, waving at the child, but talking to me. “I need to run down to the supplies closet to grab some shampoos for Lucien’s bath. Can you watch the tyke?”

  “Sure, sure,” I say, waving at him. He should know that I never really watch the bugger when he leaves him in my care. But the supplies closet, where Lucidites can find various toiletries, isn’t that far so he won’t be gone for long. Well, that is, unless he runs into someone and chats off their face. My pops isn’t used to having so many people around and he’s turned into a social moth.

  When he’s gone I look down at the child, who Pops says resembles me as a kid in every way. Apparently, we’re alike right down to our expressionless attitude.

  “We’ve never really gotten on too well, have we?” I say as he gnaws on a block. His response is just a series of blinks. “Well, it’s really all your fault. You’ve hardly ever got anything to say and I can’t be expected to do all the bloody talking. A relationship with you is like a one-way street. It’s fairly boring being around you.”

  He drops the block and pushes out his bottom jaw, showing me his row of two teeth.

  “Point proven,” I say and then drop down so I’m kneeling. “I have a feeling you’re going to get yourself into a lot of trouble as you grow up.”

  He balls up his fist and slams it down on a pile of blocks, displacing them.

  “You may not like it, but I have experience on these things. You can be raised by the very best, but still turn out bad. It’s the monster. He can’t be beat, only tamed. And something tells me you’re going to jump on that monster’s back and let him take you on a wild ride,” I say, watching him run his fingers over the fibers of the carpet.

  “Ga! Ga!” Lucien says, his fat cheeks red with heat.

  “But something tells me that once you disembark off that monster’s back, you’ll go on to do great things. It’s in your genes,” I say as I stand.

  “Zip! Chip! Nip!” he says.

  I look down at the baby, the one with already a face full of freckles. “And would you stop pretending you can’t talk. You may be fooling them, but the act won’t last.”

  Then I turn and walk for Adelaide’s door. At my back I hear, “Bye-bye, Ren.”

  ***

  The metal is cold under my knuckles when I rap at the door. A moment later I hear Adelaide say, “Granddad, you don’t have to knock. Come in.”

  The button on the wall clicks when I press it and then the door slides into the recess. Adelaide looks up from her desk and her expression shifts from a smile to quiet disappointment.

  “Wait. Not yet,” she says and stands from her desk. She knows the only reason I’d visit her is to say my final goodbye. The regret is written on her face.

  I point at the chair. “Sit,” I say and press the door for the room, leaving Lucien playing alone in the main area.

  Dutifully Adelaide takes a seat back in her chair. In front of her are a few books, ones from the Lucidite library. Since she started as an agent, she’s been devouring everything she can on our society and race. Like me, she’s a fast reader and reads two to three books a day. It’s one of the reasons she’s going to make a good agent.

  Like a bratty school child, she crosses her arms and slouches. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of her bed, and then I pin my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands. “It’s time.”

  “It’s too soon,” she says, and Adelaide is trying to act grumpy, but I spy the hurt under that fake exterior.

  “It isn’t soon enough, actually. I might be too late,” I say.

  “Dahlia is dead. I’m alive. Why are you abandoning the world of the living for someone who is gone?” she says.

  A small, albeit sincere smile forms on my mouth. “Because when you find a love like what Dahlia and I have then you never, ever allow this fucking world to keep you apart. I’ve lost a lot of people and I’m tired of it. This time, I make the rules. This time, I decide who I get to keep,” I say.

  “But what about me?” she says.

  I rub my palms against each other. “That is
my only regret in all of this,” I say.

  Her chin lifts, a new hope in her eyes. “It is?”

  “Well, yes. You’re still so poorly behaved and I worry what will happen to this place if you don’t have me to berate you.”

  She purses her lips and gives me an expression that says “I should have expected that answer.”

  “Dahlia and I belong together. I can’t explain it and I realize that my choice to be with her takes me away from you and that you—”

  “I want to find love like that one day,” Adelaide says, daring to cut me off. “I actually totally don’t get it, but then I kind of do. If I found my true love, a person that it wasn’t work to love, well, I’m sure my soul would feel tethered to them.”

  I just stare at the girl before me, the one with hair as red as mine and the same discerning eyes. We’re so similar and yet, I’m certain she was given a superpower to get under my skin in the worst way.

  “You’ve done many great things, but when I see you with Dahlia, I do think that’s your best achievement. You found your mate. And you didn’t settle, like most gits. You actually found the one person that complements you in every way. I really didn’t believe in true love until I met you two. Now I know that it exists, but it’s rare,” she says.

  “We sacrificed a lot and lost a lot of time together,” I say.

  “So you’re saying it’s not easy?” she says.

  “I’m saying that’s the reason that people rarely find true love. They find companionship, but love is a word we throw around too much. We’re all a bunch of hormone-ridden humans who can’t really discern the difference between comfort and love,” I say.

  “Yeah, I know you’re right. I’ve seen it my entire life. People just match up because they like the way the other person looks or they don’t bore them to death or because they’re lustful. But then it all fades and they are just two people sharing a life. Then I met you two and realized that you actually found your match, the person that seems made for you,” Adelaide says and there’s an interesting new respect in her voice. She may not like what I’m doing, but I see now that she admires it more than she did.

  “I want you to take over the werewolf case,” I say when it’s been too quiet for too long.

  Her head, which had dropped, now flips up at this announcement. “You what? But that’s a level five case,” she says.

  “And I fear that it should be reclassified as something even higher, if there was such a classification. It’s going to be incredibly dangerous and difficult,” I say.

  “Then why do you want me to do it? Is it because you want me dead?” she says, with a smirk.

  “I want you on the case because you’re the best agent for the job.” I pause and then say, “But I sincerely hope it doesn’t take you out.”

  “Yeah, dying from a werewolf attack has to be the worst,” she says.

  “Go to Trent and tell him that I assigned you the case. I gave him a heads-up that you’d be making an announcement,” I say.

  “Do you really think I’m the best agent for the case?” she says.

  My eyes flutter a bit with annoyance. “Don’t fish. And honestly, I’m not certain that you’ll be successful. We are blind here without the news reporting department doing their jobs. And the people behind this seem to be really well organized and funded. I suspect you’re dealing with a rather large organization and Dream Travelers are probably involved,” I say.

  “Well, thanks. This almost makes me happy,” she says and now tucks her fingers under her legs and kicks a bit, her feet grazing the carpet.

  “Adelaide, building a happy life usually takes constant renovations,” I say.

  “Do you really think I’m capable of being happy? I’m not the type for such things,” she says.

  “Well, look at me,” I say.

  “Yeah, you managed it a bit and we’re pretty similar,” she says, and then her face flushes red.

  “No, it’s true. We’re strangely similar,” I say and then I sit up straighter, looking directly at Adelaide. “My mum spoke to me about happiness before she died. She knew that, just like you, I was going to struggle to find any semblance of happiness in my life.”

  “I love when you talk about her. Your face shifts. It lights up a little,” she says, her voice almost laughing.

  An old pain assaults my chest and then rises up into my throat. It’s an ache connected to my mum. I stare at the carpet, wondering if I might actually be close to crying for the first time in my adult life.

  “What did your mum say to you?” Adelaide says, ending the silence.

  I clear my throat, looking at her, realizing my scars are clearly written on my face and then realizing I don’t care. “She said that she wished she could take away my powers so I could be happy. However, she knew my battle was to find happiness after being who I was, a greater being than most. My mum, a beautiful but ordinary Middling, knew that finding happiness with a mind like mine was going to be difficult.” I lift my chin and look at the ceiling, taking in a calming breath. “My mum would have said the same to you.”

  “That’s really beautiful,” Adelaide says.

  Now I look directly at my daughter. “She was right. My mum was right on all of it. Happiness has been the hardest thing for me to obtain, but there shouldn’t be a greater pursuit for you. You can save the world, Adelaide, but if you don’t save yourself then it will never matter.”

  “You’re not going to want to hug me, are you?” she says, and I hear the tears in her throat.

  “I don’t think either one of us are the hugging type,” I say, standing up and turning for the door.

  “Is it okay if I tell you something personal?” she says, and it’s rare to hear the shyness in her voice.

  “I think you should do whatever you want. What do you have to lose, your chances with me are running out.”

  She pushes up from the chair, but hesitates with the series of motions several times. Then she’s standing in front of me, looking at me directly. “I love you. You don’t have to say it. I know you won’t. But I can’t let you leave and not say it. Because it wasn’t until I met you that I realized I was capable of loving someone. And I don’t love you because you’re my father. It’s because to me, you’re truly amazing. Most people are so boring. So average. So polite. But, with all your faults and your abuse, you’re still one of the most extraordinary persons I’ve ever known. And I think I’ll spend my entire life just searching for someone who compares to you.”

  “I hope you find them,” I say and then pull a small leather-bound book from my suit jacket pocket. “I want you to have this.”

  She takes it. “What is it?”

  “It’s my book of secrets. Everything I know about this world and the things that most people don’t.”

  “Oughtn’t the book be bigger?” she says.

  I regard the pocket-sized book. “You’ll be surprised at how much information is in there.”

  “Why are you giving it to me?” she asks, real disbelief in her voice. Adelaide really doesn’t get it… yet.

  “Adelaide, you’re my legacy. You’re what I leave behind. My greatest gift to this world, and I trust you with the vast knowledge I’ve acquired while on earth. I believe it is in good hands with you,” I say, tapping the top of the book in her hands.

  She pulls the book up and presses it to her chest. “Yes, I’ll keep it safe. I’ll use the knowledge wisely. I promise,” she says, and I hear the tears in her voice but she’s staying strong, knowing that’s what I desire in this moment.

  “Good,” I say and press the button for the door. With one last look at my daughter I smile, and it’s a sincere one. “I love you always,” I say, repeating my mum’s last words to me before she died.

  “Goodbye, Ren,” she says in a whisper.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pops gives me a disappointed scowl when I exit Adelaide’s room. “You left him alone,” he says, indicating Lucien, sitting in the exact plac
e where I abandoned him.

  “What can I say, I’m a deserter,” I say, approaching my room at the end of the hallway.

  “Well, we just won’t ask Ren to watch you anymore,” Pops says in a baby voice, ruffling the redhead’s hair.

  That shouldn’t be a problem, I think as I run my finger over the button for my door. I pause. Turn. Stare at the man on the carpet, playing with the child like he’s a kid himself still. He’s in his nineties now, but no one would guess that looking at him. How have my pops’s eyes never dulled? Each year they sparkle with the love he genuinely feels for the life he lives. Of course, that spark renewed more so once I introduced Adelaide and then Lucien to him. I don’t regret being the unloving child my parents didn’t deserve, but I’m grateful that he has more children to lavish with his love. I almost think they are deserving of the unyielding affection that man will bestow upon them. I know with full certainty that there isn’t anything Adelaide or Lucien can ever do to lose my pops’s favor. I tested that for myself and I know that man loves me unconditionally. If there is any good in me, it is because I had parents who loved me despite the monster. They knew I was wicked and yet, they chose to see only the good in me.

  I turn and regard Adelaide’s door, where I hear a soft muffled cry. It has taken me my entire life to understand how a parent could love a child so completely, as my father always did. Now I get it, a notion I thoroughly never expected to understand or feel for myself.