by N. A. Hydes
“Nice to meet you, Jennifer.” Dr. Smith’s blue eyes that faded into green stared into Jennifer’s eyes, and her breath caught. She felt her cheeks warm.
“Do you mind if I join the two of you for a while?” Dr. Smith asked.
“No problem,” Matt answered and motioned for him to sit across from them. Dr. Smith slid into the seat, his pants audibly sticking slightly on the plastic. Matt put his arm around Jennifer.
Jennifer noticed Dr. Smith had a scar on his cheek above his beard line. She didn’t remember the guy in her dream having an injury. She wondered where and when he had gotten the scar.
“So,” Matt interrupted Jennifer’s deep concentration, and Jennifer forced her eyes to Matt. “What brings you out so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Dr. Smith smiled and moved his left hand through his hair. Jennifer knew it was a nervous gesture. She wondered what caused him to worry.
“Jennifer, Dr. Smith is my anthropology teacher.” Dr. Smith looked at Jennifer again. This time the color in his cheeks drained, immediately followed by the addition of a rose color, and his brows came together to form a dent.
I know that look, Jennifer thought to herself. He’s puzzled. Something has startled him. Dr. Smith didn’t seem to recognize her at all, but something was bothering him.
“So, how long have you taught at South Holt University?” Jennifer asked as she broke the stare and looked down at the table.
“It’s been recent. I’m not tenured. I’m actually a biologist who has enough credentials to teach anthropology.” Dr. Smith was still looking at Jennifer.
The waitress walked back to the table. She smiled and tilted her head towards Dr. Smith. “Hi,” she said, her voice very friendly, maybe even flirtatious. “Can I get you the usual?” she asked Dr. Smith. She placed Matt’s and Jennifer’s drinks on the table without even looking at either of them.
Jennifer whispered, “Thank you,” under her breath. The “thank you” was either not heard or ignored.
Dr. Smith turned his gaze to the waitress. “Yes.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’d like that. But could you put it at my regular table, please?”
“No, eat with us,” Matt insisted. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “That is, Jennifer, if you don’t mind?”
Jennifer wanted to ask Dr. Smith some more questions. “Yes, I insist. Besides, I might want to take one of your classes next semester. It is always good to have a head start on such things as grades.”
Dr. Smith smiled at Jennifer and then back at the waitress. “Please bring my food to this table.”
The waitress shifted her weight back and forth from toes to heels as she was facing Matt. Chewing her gum, she asked, “Can I order y’all any food?”
“Yes, please,” Matt answered. “I would like pancakes.” Jennifer raised her eyebrows at Matt for changing his mind from what he said he was ordering earlier.
“And for you?” she asked Jennifer.
“I would love a meat lover’s omelet, please.” Jennifer handed back the menu to the waitress.
The waitress took the two menus and looked questioningly at Jennifer. “So, you want the sausage, bacon, and ham omelet?”
“Sure, that sounds great,” Jennifer responded.
The waitress walked away from the table.
“What other classes do you teach?” Jennifer asked Dr. Smith.
“I teach all the 101 classes they can assign me,” he said, laughing. “I’m teaching anthropology of Native Americans next semester. That’s new for me. I’ll be teaching the first semester of biology, the first semester of paleontology, and another anthropology course.”
“You look too young to have been teaching long,” Jennifer observed.
“Thank you,” he responded. “I’m older than I look.”
“I can hear a slight accent. Where are you from?” Jennifer asked.
Dr. Smith was looking towards the waitress, who was returning to the table with a drink for him. The waitress placed the glass in front of him, pausing long enough for him to notice her before smiling. He nodded some thanks, and she walked away happily.
“Most people don’t even notice my accent. I’ve been in the States for so long. The last place I lived before the States was in South Africa. And you?” he asked, taking a sip from his drink, staring at Jennifer.
She smiled. “My accent isn’t giving me away? I’m from North Carolina, not too far from here.”
“And what are you studying?” he wondered.
“Like Matt, I’ve not completely decided.”
“What are you leaning towards, might I ask?” Dr. Smith tilted his head downward and looked at Jennifer. She thought he looked more like a professor than the prince in her imagination.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Smith,” Jennifer said as she shook her head and then put her elbows on the table. “Have I met you before? You look very familiar.”
Dr. Smith really looked at Jennifer then, stared deep into her eyes. He bit his bottom lip. She knew it meant he was concentrating, trying to add up the pieces. In her mind’s eye, she could picture him playing a game with stones. He was younger. Just like now, he was biting his lip, trying to think of his next move.
“I don’t think so,” Dr. Smith responded. He took a sip of his drink and continued to look at Jennifer. He looked away and towards the waitress, but his eyebrows stayed pressed together in concentration.
He remembers something, Jennifer thought to herself. She looked out the window into the dark. Why did she think she knew so much about this man?
“So, where are your parents from?” Dr. Smith asked. She turned, catching him staring intently at her, causing her breath to catch.
Recovering, she replied, “My parents are both from North Carolina. Where did you get your doctorate?”
He started laughing. “I think I got it everywhere. So, Matt, what are you leaning towards?”
“I’m leaning towards mechanical engineering. I’ve almost completely decided it. Jennifer’s been thinking about architecture,” Matt answered.
“Interesting.” Dr. Smith rubbed his beard with his left hand. “So, Matt, where are your parents from?” he asked.
“Both my parents are from North Carolina. Well, Mom was born in India, but she spent most of her life here. My grandfather is from China, but his parents were from Germany,” Matt answered.
“Aww,” Dr. Smith said. “Matt, do you have any siblings?”
“No siblings,” Matt answered. “Only child.” Matt took a sip of his drink.
“And you, Jennifer?” Dr. Smith asked.
Jennifer had her glass brought up to her mouth, resting on her lips. “Yes,” she took a sip and put the drink back on the table. She smiled. “I have a younger brother. And you, Dr. Smith, are you married with children?”
“No.” Dr. Smith paused. “No, on both accounts.”
“And your sister’s children, do you talk with them?” Jennifer said without thinking about her words.
“Yes, I talk with them.” Dr. Smith didn’t miss a beat and looked straight at Jennifer. He started biting his bottom lip again.
The waitress brought all the food out at the same time. Jennifer could feel her stomach growling when the waitress placed her omelet in front of her. She took a small bite. It was wonderful.
“So, what do you do when you’re not in class? I mean, do you like sports? Do you play video games? I’ve always wondered what professors do in their free time,” Matt asked as he poured more hot syrup on his pancakes.
Dr. Smith was also eating an omelet with salsa on top. After he swallowed his food, he replied, “I enjoy reading, playing video games, but usually, I’m doing research.”
“What do you research?” Jennifer asked.
“Just migration of different species, nothing special, nothing to win me a Nobel Prize. But I do spend hours upon hours on it.” Dr. Smith put another bite in his mouth.
“Neat,” Jennifer responded.
Dr. Smith an
d Matt began a conversation on the general education anthropology course. Jennifer felt free to watch the man sitting across from Matt. She knew how he was going to move before he moved. It was strange, like sitting across from one of her dear friends, but he was a stranger. He was more handsome in person than in her dream, even though he looked more like a professor than the prince she had imagined him. Perhaps she had seen him before, and that inspired the vision.
Almost as though he could hear her thoughts, Matt pulled Jennifer closer to him. The waitress brought two checks and gave one to Matt and the other to Dr. Smith.
“Here,” Dr. Smith said as he took the bill from Matt. “This meal is on me.” He handed the waitress his card and the tickets.
“Are you sure?” Matt asked. “I don’t mind paying.”
“My treat.” Dr. Smith got up and laid some money on the table. “It was nice to meet you, Jennifer. Hopefully, I’ll see you in my class in January. You two have a nice day.” He stopped for a second. “Jennifer, what is your last name, if you don’t mind me asking? That way, I will know if you sign up for my class in the spring.”
“Wright,” she answered.
He walked over to the waitress and talked to her as she handed his credit card back to him.
“Do you think he is asking her on a date?” Jennifer asked Matt as she put on his jacket. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought bothered her.
“Yeah, possibly,” Matt responded. “But it isn’t any of our business.” He smiled and kissed her on her head. He slid out of the seat, and Jennifer followed. She looked over her shoulder at Dr. Smith. He was slightly taller than her, but shorter than Matt. Jennifer estimated six foot one.
“Let’s go hiking,” Matt said as he took her hand. Jennifer agreed.
12
Silvery Serpent
Melissa had purchased a silver and blue lava lamp at a novelty store in London the day before. She plugged it into the private plane’s outlet and watched the blue blob move up and down. She wore her tall, electric-blue boots and the strange silver mini-skirt she had bought at the same store.
“Are you sure we have to go, Tom?” she asked while chewing bubble gum.
Jormungant, who went by Tom to most people, didn’t like Melissa’s outfit, but it looked good on her.
“I told you, my cat, I have to go to the States for a few days.” He called each of his girls by a pet name, and this girl was his pet. One he intended to break, but all in good time.
“I think I like London better than the States. What state?” she asked.
“Pennsylvania. I need to see a colleague of mine. I have a special job for him.”
“My mom is in Pennsylvania. She is in Pittsburgh. Do you mind if I go see my mom?”
“That would be perfect.” Tom moved from the seat across from Melissa to beside her, putting his arm around her. He drew her into a kiss as she leaned into him, returning the affection. Gently, she traced the scar that started on his chin and ran up the left side of his face. It was old and had faded. His only imperfection was one he got long ago and wore as a reminder of his goals, his dreams.
Johan, one of his descendants, was waiting at the dinosaur display in the Pittsburgh airport. Killing at least one dragon not only made Johan immortal but also Family. As Family, Johan had a new assignment in response to the Awakening.
13
Jennifer’s Dreams
Jennifer moved her hair from on top of her face and slowly opened her eyes. The sun was coming through the window and was hitting the wall in front of the bed. A man’s arm was casually thrown over her, and she could hear his breathing. Her heart raced as she tried to remember.
The man was not Richard Lee. She was not her grandmother, Josephine English.
It was so real, Jennifer’s grandfather Richard, young, alive, energetic. He had died in a car crash when Jennifer was a little girl. In her dream, he was a romantic, loving, tender lover.
Jennifer fought the urge to be sick as she remembered what it was like for his blue eyes to stare into hers before kissing her.
Jennifer fought to ground herself in this reality by identifying facts. She was in an apartment. Her heart slowed some. She was in college. Her heart slowed some more. The man was Matt, her boyfriend. She had gone hiking with him and crashed at his apartment. He was her boyfriend and not her lover.
Slowly, the rest of the pieces came back together. “My name is Jennifer Wright,” she said under her breath, taking care not to wake Matt.
She lay in bed for minutes remembering the layout of the apartment before going to the bathroom. When she came back into the room, Matt was sitting up, smiling.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Matt said. “Would you like some eggs?”
Jennifer stood at the door, looking more at the ground than towards Matt. Awkwardly and perhaps shyly, she answered, “Yes, please. And coffee.”
Matt patted the bed for her to sit down. She sat in front of him. He leaned down to kiss her in a deep, passionate kiss. One of his hands came to rest on her leg, and she moved it away and ended the kiss early.
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Matt asked when he pulled away.
Jennifer tried to think of when she started drinking coffee. It wasn’t her who drank coffee; it was her grandmother in her dream, Josephine. It was too late to correct the mistake. “I usually do around holidays,” she said. It was true, now at least. “Do you want some help making the eggs?” She stood and backed towards the door.
Matt smiled, dropping the covers as he stood in front of her. He began walking closer until he pushed Jennifer against a wall. Leaning his entire body into her, he pressed his lips into hers.
“I can never get enough of your kisses,” he said, pulling away. “You can help me clean up if you like, but I can make breakfast by myself.”
Jennifer followed Matt out of the room. He knocked on the door at the end of the hall. “Hey man,” he called, banging again.
“What?” came Doug’s voice.
“Do you and Lauren want some eggs?” Matt asked.
“Sure, man, thanks.”
Matt walked back to the stove and started cooking. Jennifer watched, fascinated, as Matt broke eggs using a single hand. He whisked and tossed pepper as if he were a chef.
“Yeah,” said Doug, coming out of his room wearing pajama pants and a tee-shirt. “Matt should be a chef. He has some mad cooking skills.”
Jennifer had taken a seat on a barstool at the kitchen counter. She smiled at Doug’s comments.
Lauren walked out of the room in a tee-shirt advertising a local band called Freedom, with their logo and the saying ‘Freedom Starts with You.’ She also wore pink shorts, and her black hair was in a bun above her head. She wrapped her arms around Doug. “He cooks like an angel and cheats like a devil.”
Matt beat the egg batter in his arms and stared at Lauren. “I did not cheat.” Matt dumped the egg batter into the frying pan on the stove.
“I call rematch,” Doug threw out.
“Yes, rematch,” Lauren echoed and kissed Doug’s chin.
“Rematch to what?” Jennifer wondered.
“A rematch to a Risk game.” Lauren was leaning into Doug. “Matt won, but there was no way he could win, the little sneak. I’m not even sure how he cheated.”
“Only if Jennifer plays,” Matt responded.
“Never played,” Jennifer said, looking at everyone.
“Well, it is easy enough to play, but it might last all day. Usually, we put on HBO or Showtime, order pizza for lunch and dinner. Takes a day of insane playing.” Matt plated the eggs as he spoke.
“I’m game.” Jennifer smiled back.
After Doug cleared away breakfast, the group of four played a heated game of Risk, which Matt won yet again.
14
Richard Lee and Josephine English Lee
Petr drove a black four-door sedan, a sensible choice for blending in with all the other vehicles on the road. It was raining by the time he pulled into th
e Cherryville Records Office. He grabbed the backpack he had prepared and headed into the building.
The room was set up like a library, he was happy to discover. In the center of the room was a counter where a woman with short salt-and-pepper curly hair and cat glasses was typing on a keyboard. Around the room were tables and chairs.
Petr placed his research material onto a small table that only had two chairs, reached into his backpack, and pulled out a paper he had prepared for today’s search. In bold letters at the top was Jennifer’s mother’s information: Pauline Lee Wright, born in 1962. He would start his hunt with her. Hopefully, with luck, he could find information on Pauline Wright’s birth.
Typically, small record offices asked more questions than the big city. Petr hoped this wouldn’t be the case now. He left his material on the desk and approached the woman, but she did not look up at him. He made a slight noise, drawing her attention. Her glasses must have been bifocals because she pushed the glasses down to the bottom of her nose.
“Yes,” she said, her voice scratchy.
“I’m looking for the birth records for 1962?” he asked.
She stood at the same time she pushed her glasses up her nose, so the lenses rested in front of her eyes. “Over here,” she replied, pointing towards the bookshelf near the door. “We have birth records.” She gestured towards bookshelves behind Petr, but near the table where he had left his backpack. “Behind you, we have the Census. As you can imagine, we have more census data than anything.” She turned around to look at bookshelves beside the wall. “And the death certificates are over here. You may make photocopies,” she added, pointing to a photocopy machine. “However, the prints are ten cents each. The books aren’t allowed to leave.” She sat back down. “We close at five p.m.” And she started typing again.
Petr began with the census records and soon found enough references to identify Jennifer’s maternal grandparents. Pauline Lee, Jennifer’s mother, was an only child born on May 12, 1962, to Richard and Josephine Lee. He scribbled their names onto the paper. It took some time, but he found the marriage certificate for Sunday, March 27th, 1960, for Richard Lee and Josephine English.