Finally, the young woman stepped forward. “Are you lost?” she asked again.
“Actually” Sam answered, “I live here … or, rather, I live near here.”
“You live on this mountain?” the young woman raised an eyebrow.
“Yes” Sam answered matter-of-factly. He pointed high above his head, “Almost at the very top.”
The woman looked above her. “Sure,” she said, “you live up there?”
Sam nodded.
“No one lives up there except for the Simmons family.”
“Well, the Simmons family used to live there.” The smile faded from Sam’s face “Now only one Simmons lives there … and he wished he lived somewhere else.”
The young woman walked over and sat by Sam in the soft grass. She didn’t sit close enough for him to put his arm around, but she was there, and he was glad. She didn’t seem apprehensive any longer. Sam could only imagine what she was thinking, until she spoke, “Are you saying that you are one of the Simmons?”
“My name is Sam.” Sam said, extending a hand toward the woman. He looked at the hand for a moment and in that moment Sam gazed into her hazel eyes. He saw virtue in her face, in the hypnotic twinkle of those large eyes. She took the hand and shook it and then met Sam’s eyes. There was still no expression upon her face. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Sam asked.
She shook her head slowly. “Of course not.” Then, a moment later, “No offense.”
“None taken. If I weren’t me I might not believe it myself.”
“It might be nice if you were Sam Simmons.”
“Why?”
“Well, the way everyone talks about the Simmons’ family” she sounded as if the subject were a daily discussion, “you’d think they have magical powers.” She whispered, as if she were talking to herself, “If you were Sam you could tell me what to do.”
Sam understood that she must be talking about whatever problem she had with her parents. He didn’t know all the details of the problem and besides, advice on getting along with parents was not something he could give. Not now. Instead, since he had no idea what to say, he said nothing. The silence stretched on into minutes and it was perfect. The young woman sat with her legs stretched out in front of her and her hands behind her, holding herself upright. She seemed content to sit there quietly, indefinitely, and after listening to so many voices in his head every single day, Sam found the silence soothing and refreshing. Eventually, a question occurred to him that he felt was worth breaking the silence, “If you don’t mind, what is your name?”
“If you tell me your real name, I’ll tell you mine.”
Sam was at a loss for words. He could think of nothing witty to say and besides, Sam was his real name.
“My name is Julia.” The woman said when it was clear Sam wouldn’t respond. “I guess you’ll just have to wonder if that’s my real name.” Julia turned back to the pond, and to silence.
It mattered to Sam that she thought he was lying to her, but it didn’t matter if she were lying to him. Whether her name was Julia or any number of other names, the only thing that mattered right now was that she was here, sitting beside him.
CHAPTER 17
Eventually, the silence went from refreshing to awkward, at least for Sam. It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying his time here with Julia, he couldn’t stop wondering what she might be thinking. His telepathy had made her mind an opened book to him but now that he refused to use his ability upon her she was a closed door. A closed door to a room that promised to hold any number of interesting secrets. Sam felt proud of himself for his restraint, but he couldn’t shake the realization of how much easier all this would be if he simple did what The Good Doctor advised. Perhaps he was just being excessively puritanical. All he knew was that whenever he gazed into Julia’s beautiful eyes he felt guilty to reach beyond those eyes, into her mind, without her permission.
Sam didn’t know much about women, perhaps even less than the average young man, but he knew that he liked this one. More than once, while he was stealing glances, he wanted to lean over and tell her how much he liked her. Just blurt it out that he liked her and would be happy to remain here, for however long she chose to honor him with her presence. Wisely, he thought that might be a little too much, a little too early. How would he explain such powerful feelings? Julia had no idea of Sam’s abilities. She had no idea he had already scanned her mind, no idea that he had already seen her private memories. He knew things about her already that she probably would’ve been appalled to know that he knew. No, telling her that he really liked her was probably not the best thing right away. But, Sam felt more acutely that he should say something. Otherwise how would he ever know if he would see Julia again? As she’d already pointed out, there was no guarantee that was her real name, and he had not been able to pinpoint exactly where she lived from her thoughts. He hadn’t gleaned very much from her thoughts besides that something very painful had been happening in her life for a long time. If they parted ways here with no more than what Sam knew about her, she might never return. Because of him her private place was no longer private, after all.
Sam still didn’t know exactly what to say but eventually he opened his mouth to speak anyway. Before any words could come out, though, Julia spoke. “So, who are you, really?” she asked quietly, never taking her eyes off the pond. Sam thought for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak again. The only answer he had was the truth and unfortunately Julia had already deemed it a lie. Unfortunately, it was still the only answer he had. He didn’t have time to give the answer before Julia interrupted him a second time. “Really.” She added. It sounded like a warning that she was no longer willing to entertain his obvious deception.
“And if I tell you the truth and you don’t believe me?”
Julia turned and met Sam’s eyes briefly before turning back to the water’s gentle ripples. She shrugged her shoulders, “My parents used to say that everything in life was a risk, even waking up in the morning. Perhaps telling the truth is a risk too.”
Julia seemed deflated at the mention of her parents. She talked about them as if they were already dead. Sam hadn’t gathered any hint from her thoughts that her parents were dead, just somewhere far away. Whatever the case, he saw remarkable logic in what she’d said. Any decision, any decision at all, was a risk. Some risks were larger than others but they all carried with them the possibility of failure. It was not exactly the cheeriest view of life, but cheer had never been easy to come by for Sam. “I have an idea. If I tell you, you won’t believe me. How about I show you?”
“How?”
Sam didn’t answer. He waited until Julia looked away from the pond and he pointed behind him. “There’s a staircase about two miles back that way. If you’ll follow it with me all the way to the top, I’ll show you where I live.” Julia looked doubtful. “Well, if I am Sam Simmons then I must live somewhere on this mountain, right?” She stared at him. “Right?” Sam added, mimicking her.
After a moment, Julia shrugged her shoulders and began to rise to her feet. Sam quickly rose to his feet as well. As they walked along, it struck Sam as odd that Julia would follow him, a virtual stranger, to a place she’d never been before. Besides that, there was still no way for her to know if Sam were lying or not. Of course, they were headed to the staircase precisely so he could prove that he wasn’t lying, but as far as she knew he could be lying about that. He could be leading her to another hidden oasis upon the mountain or for that matter, the backside of some huge mountain boulder. Anyplace to do with her whatever he wanted, well beyond the sight and sound of anyone who could possibly help. But as she followed him, Sam sensed neither fear nor apprehension from her. There was no way to be certain without using his telepathy, but it seemed as if Julia weren’t excessively concerned with her own welfare. Sam got the impression that she lacked the energy necessary to care about what happened to her one way or the other.
Het could relate. Seeing her like this made him
want to escort her to his home not merely to prove his honesty, but so he could take care of her. Meanwhile, Julia followed quietly until they finally arrived at the staircase. There, when she saw for herself that the staircase was real, she simply laid a hand upon the rail and followed the staircase up with her eyes. Sam could tell that something was happening behind those large, almost golden eyes but he couldn’t tell what, whether good or bad. Then, still without a word, she looked up at Sam as if she were wondering why he wasn’t leading on. Sam hopped over the railing gingerly and landed on a set of steps. He felt as if he could’ve leapt over a tall building in a single bound. It was really happening, Julia was really coming to his home! He would show her who he really was, and it would mark the beginning of a fabulous friendship. That’s what he hoped, at least.
She didn’t jump over the railing as Sam had, she carefully knelt beneath it. Then, she followed Sam up the staircase, still without a word. Sam turned from time to time to make sure she was still following behind, and whenever he did he found her gazing out into the distance, wistfully. She always looked toward the city. Sam thought she might be staring toward the place where she lived, the place that was apparently no more home to her than that she would rather spend her days at the edge of a lonely pond on an otherwise barren mountain. Even so, she kept looking toward that home that was not a home. Even in the face of sights and sounds grand beyond what most people would ever see or hear, she kept looking toward that place. Even though she was climbing a grand staircase painstakingly carved directly into a mountain face—a feat of ingenuity that was not to be matched—headed toward what might’ve just as easily have been her demise, she kept looking toward the place. At every glance that Sam stole, Julia’s face showed the pain she still held deep inside as clearly as if Sam were still reading her mind. He was more certain than ever that he was making the right decision not to.
He couldn’t think of any way he might help her situation, but then he didn’t have all the information. One look into her pained face, however, convinced him that he could best help her by not having all the information. He could be of greatest aid to Julia by not leading her down a path that could possibly end with him practicing undue influence over her, as the doctor had with those children. When they finally reached the top of the staircase, Julia seemed flustered. Her step was less steady and her face was pale and sheened with perspiration. Sam helped her to one of the chairs on his porch. “It just the air up here.” He said as he knelt beside her chair, “It’s much thinner than the air down there, I think my father told me.” Julia remained bent over in her chair, struggling to catch her breath. Even now her face was gorgeously radiant in the crisp sunlight. Sam pulled his own chair beside her as she struggled for breath. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you. I guess I’m just so used to it now that I hardly notice.”
Julia lifted her head and gazed out into the distance but, for the first time, not toward the city. Her large eyes were even larger now. Sam could see the awe in her face. She was noticing the fantastic view for the first time. She gasped and held her chest. She looked out upon the open horizon for a long time until Sam thought she might’ve seen something that he hadn’t in all his years upon the mountain. Or perhaps she was searching for something out in the open expanse that he had never thought to look for. Perhaps she was searching for possibilities. Eventually, Julia turned those hazel eyes upon him. “So, you really are …"
“Who I say I am?” Sam offered.
Julia turned away and shrugged her shoulders. The gesture seemed forced this time, hesitant. “I guess so.” She didn’t sound excited about the revelation. It was not the reaction Sam had expected. It had been refreshing to meet a person—perhaps the only person—who didn’t know who he was, but he had expected Julia to be more impressed once he’d convinced her that he was telling the truth. That apparently wasn’t the case. It might’ve been for the best. Had Julia acted as any other person would, it would’ve been a grand disappointment for Sam at the very least and a complete disaster at worst. For, anyone else would’ve believed his story. This was the Simmons’ mountain after all. And if they didn’t, once they discovered he was telling the truth and found themselves in the home of the most famous family on earth, they would’ve instantly launched into hysterics. There would’ve been shouting, crying, perhaps fainting. There might’ve been a lot of reactions but none of them would’ve been as cool as Julia’s.
Sam led Julia through his home. He thought that she might be more impressed after a tour of the place. She wasn’t. She didn’t seem interested in the too-high, heavily ornamented ceilings, nor the too-expensive furniture, nor the too-large rooms. In fact, Sam got the impression she was being polite by enduring the remainder of the tour. He could certainly understand the sentiment, but he couldn’t help feeling that he had placed himself in the balances of Julia’s mind and been found lacking. He didn’t show Julia into his father’s room—he wasn’t ready to give a tour that included that room to anyone—and he was beginning to think that it might’ve been a serious mistake bringing her up here at all. Eventually, they returned to the porch and to their separate chairs.
“You have a really nice home.” Julia said. Both her tepid tone and the wane smile she gave said different.
“You don’t sound like you think it’s a really nice home.” He answered
“It’s not that.” Julia said slowly “It’s just …”
“Don’t worry.” Sam interrupted “Besides that all the people I’ve ever loved have lived here, I’ve never been overly fond of it either.”
“It reminds me of my parents’ home. Too much stuff.” She turned quickly toward Sam, “Not that anything’s wrong with that, it’s just not my thing.”
“Not mine, either.” Julia gazed into his face. Her brows were furrowed. “Yeah, right?” Sam answered You would think anybody would be grateful to live in a place like this.” he waved a hand behind him toward the house. “Not me. It’s nice and all that, it’s just …” Sam searched for the proper word to describe how he felt about this too-everything house.
“Too much?” Julia offered.
“Yes!” Sam exclaimed “That’s exactly what this house is. That’s exactly what everything is right now. Life, all of it. Too much.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no Third Little Bear here. Everything’s either too hot or too cold.” Julia said.
“That’s right.” Sam agreed. “There is definitely no room for fairy tales in this life.” He thought he heard a sigh from Julia, but he couldn’t be certain.
It felt right to Sam, sitting on his porch whiling away the moments with another person whose spirit seemed as broken as his own. It was certainly better than sitting out here alone, asking questions to himself, that would probably never be answered. But he also knew it couldn’t last forever. Julia would have to return to her own house, even if it didn’t feel like a home. When he suggested to her that it may be time to go, she didn’t move.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Isn’t there always?” she answered. Sam couldn’t argue with that.
Julia watched Sam now, her face searching his for something he could not decipher. It began to make him nervous. Whatever it was for which she searched, she either found it or surrendered the search because she stood abruptly to her feet and began walking toward the staircase. Sam followed. She didn’t speak again the entire way down and Sam didn’t attempt break the silence. They walked back to the pond and when it came time to part Sam hesitantly extended a hand to shake. It was a pitiful gesture, even to him, but it was the only one he could think of. Was this Goodbye forever? Would he ever see Julia again? Were they friends now or just little more than complete strangers again? Did Julia see them as complete strangers, still? Sam didn’t know how to ask the questions and he had no idea what move to make since he lacked the answers.
Julia took the hand, shook it quickly and released it. She turned to leave but didn’t immediately walk away. “They say you sav
ed the entire world from the Virus.” Sam opened his mouth to speak but she went on, “They say you can do anything.” She turned again to look into Sam’s face, “Can you make me a boy, so my parents’ will love me?”
Sam was struck speechless, and Julia didn’t wait long for an answer. She turned again and did walk briskly away this time. “Nope.” Sam said as she faded into the distance “Definitely no room for fairytales.”
CHAPTER 18
The dark hands were closer now, emerging further and further out from the inky blackness. The fingers of the hands were wickedly long, every one of them tipped with razor sharp nails filed to dangerous points. They grew longer, sharper, as they reached out desperately for Sam. There was nowhere for him to run, the blackness with its emerging hands surrounded him on every side. Only a single circle of light shined upon him. The spotlight was his only illumination amongst the otherwise ubiquitous darkness. And still the hands stretched slowly forward like a desperate marathon runner leaning into the final stretch. The hands were still far enough away that they couldn’t yet reach Sam, but they were much closer than they had been last time. Soon, they would be close enough to touch him. Close enough to destroy him.
There was another difference this time. Sam could hear voices. He couldn’t tell if the voices were coming from the hands or the surrounding blackness, but they were there. Not like the din of the townspeople, this was much worse. The voices were barely above a whisper but there were many of them. Had it not been for Sam’s telepathy it might’ve sounded like a strange buzzing noise, but he could tell that it was in fact a dense cacophony of human thoughts. Denser than any he had experienced so far. His brain raced inside his skull, but it offered no answers. He struggled in vain to decipher the many myriads of voices and he struggled in vain for any means of escape from the surrounding blackness. When he awoke he was still struggling, grappling with the sheets of his bed like a madman who had another madman’s hands clasped firmly around his throat.
The New Assault Page 11