The Shadow's Touch

by Scott VanKirk

  “What do you think I can do for her?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Finn. Just… do what you can. Go easily and gently, and see if you can help heal her without blowing her out, as you did with your father.”

  I cringed at that and said, “But, what if I do?”

  “Then you do, and she’s no worse off than now, but I really don’t think it’ll happen.”

  It was hard to argue with Anderson at the best of times, from even the highest peak of righteousness, but now, when I could sort of see his point, I didn’t have a chance. I tentatively sat down next to Holly on the bed. I took her cold little hand in mine, and I Listened and Looked. While I was doing this, she turned her head to me, and her eyes dilated when she saw me. At least, I had her attention.

  I sat for a while soaking in what I could about her condition and considered my promise to my mother. Technically, I’d promised to stay away from the people who had shadows riding them and Holly wasn’t one of them anymore, so I shouldn’t feel too guilty. Even though I did.

  I asked Spring to watch and tell me if there was anything I was missing. Physically, nothing seemed to be wrong with her. Holly’s beautiful green aura appeared just as tattered and torn as it had when I had last seen her and as fragile as she did physically. Her thin body was too small for her age, her face a place of dark shadows. Nothing I saw suggested any improvement, but since she was awake, I chose to take it as a good sign.

  Even though she wore one of the fuzzy white clinic nightgowns, she appeared cold and defenseless against the elements. She shouldn’t be like that. I wanted to cloak her in a warm blanket and hold her. I remembered the warmth I felt from Jen. It made me think.

  I looked up at the doctor who was still standing behind me watching me intently.

  “Can I hold her?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think she’s been held enough in her life.”

  Carefully, I bent over and gathered up her small form into my arms and cradled her. She was so light that she seemed hollow. I sat back down with her in my lap. The whole while, she continued to gaze at my face. I wrapped my arms around her and instinctively started rocking her gently from side to side. She snuggled into my chest.

  Slowly and carefully and with some effort, I pushed my own aura over hers. It was as if my aura was an extension of me. Once I learned how to see it, the ability to manipulate it came free, as if it was a part of my body, which isn’t that surprising since it sort of is. I cradled Holly in my arms and with my aura. I could feel her body in my lap and her soul in my mind. Foreign images and feelings started to flow through me.

  Loneliness and torment. Cold dark voices in my mind showed me horrible things, urged me to strike out. No one was on my side. I was alone, so alone. The grays of apathy and resignation, the blacks of despair and the reds of anger, hatred, and resentment colored my world. Through it all was the eternal struggle to break through to the shiny bright world I could see around me. A world separated from me by an unimaginable gulf.

  I was dimly aware that tears were running down my face. I had to protect myself, to pull back from the pain, to cast her out, and put up my strongest barriers against her, but I could feel that was how everyone had treated Holly all her life. The pain was crushing until I became aware of Spring there with me. Wordlessly, she wrapped herself around me, became my shield. She was my front line against despair. She enabled me to continue, I guess because she actually cared about me.

  Tightly, I held Holly with her memories of pain, anger, and loneliness. I tried to show her other things, other ways. I showed her the safety of my old oak, the love of my parents, and the warmth of close friends. I brought her into my world and shared it with her, bathed her in it, gave it to her, willed it to stick. All the while, I fed her what strength I had, gently and slowly, anxious to do no damage. Soon I didn’t have to push, she started pulling it in, making it part of her. It hurt and pulled on me in strange ways, but it was nothing compared to the hurt in her life.

  Sometime later, I felt Doctor Anderson shaking me gently, calling my name.

  I swam back from whatever place I had been. My limbs felt leaden, but knowing I had helped Holly made my spirit as light as a feather. “Hi, Doc.”

  Dr. Anderson smiled down at me. “Welcome back, Finn. I thought I had better check on you to make sure you were okay.”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I said. I looked down at the little girl. It came as a surprise to discover that my aura still bathed her. It had gotten to the point that it didn’t seem like a strain at all.

  I pulled back, flexing sluggish, exhausted metaphysical muscles I never realized I had. It was only then that I felt how far I had pushed myself. I understood my father’s sacrifice, his acceptance of the price he had paid. I knew the cost didn’t matter. It was worth the price.

  When I had pulled back fully, I could see that her aura had changed. It was now covering her entirely in a bright golden-green. I found myself smiling and feeling a peaceful happiness that I hadn’t felt for what seemed like years.

  “Were you able to help her?” asked the good doc. “She appears to be stronger.”

  I stretched my back and neck muscles, which had grown stiff and sore. I said, “I think she is.”

  Holly let out a small mouse of asigh. She was watching me intently again. She seemed awake and alert.

  Anderson moved forward and asked her, “Hello, Holly. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m hungry. Can I have something to eat?” she said.

  The doc looked a bit startled and shot me an opaque thoughtful look before he said, “Yes, sweetheart, I’ll get someone to bring you some food.”

  I called after him, “Hey, can you bring me some too? I’m starved.”

  He left to arrange for the food, while I sat there silently holding Holly. Her mood seemed to match mine. Words were not necessary. Everything around me seemed somehow too sharp and raw. The afternoon light streaming in the room pierced my eyes. The air in my lungs felt intensely cold. I also realized that the beat of the heart, the caduceus, felt muted and distant. That, more than anything, made feel as if I had lost something important when I sat with Holly.

  When the doc came back, she had moved back to the bed and watched the world through the window, soaking it in. He brought fruit and sandwiches for us. She wolfed her food down faster than I did. When she finished, she said shyly, “Could I have some more?”

  “Of course, Holly. What would you like?”

  “Can I have some Doritos?”

  I laughed over my internal discomfort. I liked this kid already. Anderson fetched her a couple of bags of cheesy goodness. “It’s getting late, Finn. I think you had better call your Mom or Dad for a pickup.”

  For the first time, I noticed that the sun beat into Holly’s room at a low angle. “What time is it?”

  “It’s a bit after four o’clock.”

  “Holy cr… imony! I’ve been sitting here for over four hours?” He nodded at me, and I said, “I’d have sworn that it wasn’t more than an hour.”

  “Nevertheless, it’s getting late,” said the doc.

  “Okay, I’m out of here.” I tousled Holly’s hair as she finished off her sandwich.

  Holly pulled away in irritation. “Don’t do that!”

  “Oops, sorry kiddo, I don’t like it either. Now, stop giving the doc so much trouble and behave yourself.”

  “See ya, Finn.” She held out her arms for a hug, which I happily gave her. She was a warm little bundle in my arms. Her presence was like a balm to the raw edges of the world that were poking into me. I squeezed her gently and then headed out.

  Dr. Anderson followed me out. After I had called my mom, he said, “Thanks for helping with Holly. It looks as if you’ve made a lot of progress with her.”

  That thanks felt particularly gratifying.

  “I thought you would like to know that we haven’t seen anyone new being infected by the shadow you cast out of her,” he said.

 
; This day was just getting better and better. I had been fretting about who would be next. I said, “That’s excellent!”

  “Sort of. I think that it landed in someone already infected.”

  I stopped walking “Why, what happened?”

  “Do you remember Daniel?”

  I had to think for a moment before I remembered he was the guy I had seen my first day here. I nodded.

  “Well, he has gotten significantly worse. We’ve had to keep him sedated.”

  “Oh, crap!”

  “I have to agree. I’d like to know if I can get you to come back tomorrow and see if there is anything you can do to help him.”

  That thought shot my mood pretty effectively. Suddenly, the world around me turned harsh and ominous. We were in the common room by then, so I flopped down on a comfy chair, finding it too cold and rough. I sighed and said, “Okay, Doc. I’ll give it a try.”

  “Thank you, Finn. I know this is hard on you. Tomorrow, we will keep him sedated and tied down while you’re with him. That should avoid the kinds of problems we had yesterday.”

  I wholeheartedly hoped so. That would let me feel safer, but the idea of sharing what I had shared with Holly made me uneasy. I don’t know if I could do it again.

  While I was waiting, I checked in with Spring. Hey, Spring, thanks for your help. I don’t think I could have done it without you running interference like you did.

  She sounded thoughtful. It is extremely interesting for me to see just how deeply humans feel. It is different for me. When I lived in my tree, I only knew need, contentment, and peace. Even though you have expanded me in so many ways, what Holly felt was so immense and dominating that I could scarcely understand it. She was with us for a long while. I kept expecting that it would somehow trigger similar feelings within me, as it did with you. It didn’t. I don’t know if I think that is a good thing, or a bad thing.

  I thought, Well, for Holly and me, it was a great thing. If she gets any benefit out of it, it will be because you were there.

  I felt her satisfaction about that. Intrigued, I asked, Spring, From time to time, I feel emotions come from you other than just need and contentment.

  I’ve been playing with anger and happiness.

  Playing?

  Yes, I like those.

  So, you don’t actually feel them?

  No, I do feel them, but I think I’m learning them from you. It’s fascinating to see how they change my thinking.

  You sound more like a Vulcan than a human.

  Dude! Live long and prosper !

  What do you say to that?

  I hopped into my mom’s car when she showed up. Despite the continuing raw sharpness of my world, I felt pretty decent again.

  “How did it go today, Finn?”

  “It was fantastic. Holly woke up today.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!”

  “Yep, it looks as if she’s going to recover and be okay.”

  “What else did you do today?”

  “Uh, not much actually. I just sat with Holly for a while… it seemed to help her to have someone with her.”

  My mom gave me a proud smile. “You are an amazing young man, Finn.”I was kind of feeling that way too. I should have known better.

  We lapsed into silence. She drove for a while, and then she said, “Ms. Kramer called and left a message on the answering machine today.”

  I swear I heard it when my heart fell into my gut. I’d tried calling her to talk about my grades. The strain of dealing with my failure in English showed in my voice. “So, what did she say?”

  “She said poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on her part, and she has neither the obligation nor the inclination to help you out of your mess.”

  I’m afraid I said some very bad things about the battleaxe in front of my mom so, by the time we pulled into our garage, I was angry, humiliated, and feeling guilty about my language. So much for the good day.

  After dinner, I settled down in front of the television. Spring had woken up and again asked to go dancing. I told her no again, but I promised we could watch some old Glee reruns. Set in a mythical high school, in Lima, Ohio, it was filled with mythical Liman virtuosos. I always got a kick out of their version of our Lima and its high school, and for me, it was a guilty pleasure. I found myself unwillingly liking the improbable musical soap opera. We hadn’t been watching for long before Mom called out for my dad with a note of urgency in her voice. I went to see if she needed help.

  Stalker

  My dad and I arrived in the kitchen at about the same time. Her hand shaking, Mom pointed out the window and said, “Jack, I think there’s someone out there in the woods.”

  As I scanned the darkening woods, I finally spotted a shadow that didn’t seem to fit with the rest. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour, but we were already in the shade of the woods. My dad told us to get away from the window. We did. He headed to the basement and came back with his double-barrel shotgun.

  “Just stay down,” he said as he opened the back door. “I’ll see what’s out there.”

  I had visions of my dad being bitten by a twenty-five-foot rattler or getting himself shot. “Oh, no way you’re going out there alone! I’m coming with you.”

  He paused a moment, then, he said, “Go get your gun.”

  “Jack!” protested my mom. “Let the police handle it, they’re just out front.”

  “This is my yard, Helen,” he replied grimly, and I found myself going out the back door, gun in hand, behind my father. We moved slowly through our yard towards the darkening woods.

  When we were about halfway to the woods, a spot, which was about five feet away from the shadow I had been watching, moved. Crap. I had been looking at the wrong shadow. My eyes tracked over to the movement, and the shadow there seemed to thin out and melt down into the underbrush.

  “Did you see that?” asked my dad.

  I nodded, worried. We both stopped, and then we heard the unmistakable sound of a rattlesnake. The sound you might hear on a television with the volume cranked up way too loud. The sound of fist sized rocks shaken in an oil drum. It was the sound that I’d heard in my dreams right before the snake struck. I had to clamp down on my bladder to keep from peeing my pants.

  My dad shot his gun, aiming high into the trees. Immediately the rattling stopped. The snapping and crashing of brush, moving away from us at high speed, filled the night. We ran over to the area where it had been. There was a long line of crushed underbrush leading away from a flattened area about six feet in diameter.

  I voiced my feelings in a way I normally wouldn’t around my dad. He didn’t reprimand me; in fact, he agreed wholeheartedly. A few moments later, a police officer came running around the side of our house, carrying a high-powered flashlight and demanding that we tell him what was happening. My mom had pulled him from where he sat out in front, and they had both heard the gunshot. When he heard our tale and saw the flattened area, his exclamation showed that the three of us held a remarkable degree of similarities in our opinions. He instructed us to go back into the house, lock the doors and pull down the blinds, and then he called backup help to track the… whatever it was.

  Later that night, I called Gregg and told him what had happened that day. He said he had been with Jen the whole day. She had pounded on him the entire time to get us to “complete the transfer.” I could tell she had seriously upset him. He sounded drained.

  “Ya know, Finn, the first time I heard her say it, it seemed like the most crazed POS idea I had ever heard. Maybe it’s just the repetition, but it’s making a whole lot more sense to me now.”

  “Have you talked with your parents about this?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been fighting to keep them from putting me in Shady Oaks alongside my sister. I can’t talk to them about any of this. They’re in denial, and I’m not talking about the river.”

  “I’m sorry, Gregg. That has got to suck. I’ve been telli
ng my parents everything.”

  “Yeah, well, from where I sit, it could be worse. My dad could be dreaming about Nurse Tartar.”

  “You suck. I should never have told you about that.”

  He laughed. “It all sucks, bro! It all sucks.”

  I had to agree.

  “So,” he said in an overly casual voice, “Would you be willing to try the crystal thing with my sister?”

  “I think your parents should put you in a loony bin—a long way away from Jen. What if it drives her totally nuts? What if it works too well and our Jen is gone forever? It’s not going to happen, so just forget about it.”

  Wiped

  Wipe to ironic scene a day later: a nicely furnished, institutional bedroom where Finn and Jen are sitting, cross-legged, knee to knee, looking at each other. In Jen’s hand: the crystal. In Finn’s mind: blind panic.

  Jen looked terrible. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were sunken with dark shadows, and her skin was still gray-brown. As she sat there looking at me, wearing fuzzy pajamas, I was furiously trying to remember how Gregg had talked me into this. This was a bad, bad idea. I knew it. But…oh, yeah. Jen was in a bad, bad place already. Our conversation with her had been terribly slow. She kept slipping back and forth, in and out of lucidity. One moment she was calm and thoughtful and the next she was afraid and incoherent. We had to keep steering her back to the topic at hand. In the end, when she was thinking, she thought she had no choice, that is, when she was actually thinking and not panicking. If I did nothing, then every minute of torment she went through for the rest of her life would be my fault.

  She raised her hand with the crystal sitting in it. I had cherished that amethyst all my life, but now it invoked nothing but fear and loathing in me. I slowly reached my right hand out and positioned it over the crystal.

  Don’t worry dude, I gotcha covered.

  Thanks, Spring.