Zoe Thanatos

by Cierlak, Crystal

  She looked a bit surprised. “Why wouldn’t you if you were able to? In fact,” she started, pointing towards his rental car, “why do you even have that? Why waste time driving when you can just pop in and out in an instant?”

  He scoffed at her logic. “It isn’t exactly subtle. How would I explain it if some random stranger just happened to see me appear out of thin air right before their eyes? I don’t just go around popping in and out where I please. Just because I can do certain things doesn’t mean I have to.”

  “Except...” she started, “you did with me.”

  He knew she was right. In all the time he spent there away from his own home he never once exposed his true self, never even considered taking the risk It had only been a couple hours since he prevented her from taking her life, and so far she made no attempt to try again. Maybe this was what was keeping her from making another? Despite his personal reservations and the fact that they were barely more than acquaintances, he didn’t want their time together to end. What would have happened if he never followed her and subsequently saved her life? What if she never tried to take her life at all? Would they have talked again after their first conversation?

  “Where would you like to go?” There was only one way to know why their paths had crossed, and for what purpose.

  Zoe steepled her fingers conspiratorially in front of her chest. “It’s just after five in the morning in Paris,” she whispered.

  “Paris, France?” He had been once previously and found he didn’t have a taste for it, but didn’t have the heart to decline her request.

  “I hate airplanes,” she confessed, as if the explanation was all that was necessary. Perhaps whatever logic was behind the statement made more sense to her in her mind than it did out loud.

  Like all of his actions that day he had no clue what the repercussions of that particular one would be. He never ‘popped’ in and out of places, as she so eloquently put it, and didn’t know what kind of effect it would have on her. She blacked out the first time, most likely due to the particular circumstances of the event. She was perfectly fine when they went to the vineyard; it seemed to lift her spirits.

  “Take my hand,” he instructed. He reached out with his left hand. She hesitated for a moment; finally, she placed her right hand in his.

  He found a small grove of potted trees that were just tall enough to obscure them from any direct line of sight. There were only a few people walking about minding their own business and paying no attention to them. Certain that no other eyes were on them, he held her hand tighter and looked down into her expectant gaze.

  “Don’t let go,” he whispered.

  For the second time that evening the streets of downtown Ventura disappeared around them, replaced with the much older and grander architecture of Paris. Morning light had yet to break through the sky and the lights from the streets were still glowing around them. Zoe’s eyes grew large, her pupils dilating to compensate for the dim sky and hiding the beautiful brown. She drank in the sight around them in awe, keeping her breath as though expelling it would make the world around her disappear.

  “How do you do that?” she whispered in wonder.

  The soft glow of the lights reflected in her eyes created a confetti of gold that sparkled as she took in their surroundings. It was evident in her face that she was instantly enchanted with the city. He wondered if she had ever been anywhere. Maybe that island far off the coast of California was her only foray into the world outside her own? Her hand tightened considerably in his, holding on as though to keep her from floating away. Her hand was much smaller than his and he adjusted it to compensate, stretching his palm and fingers to keep her safe on the ground.

  Though still beautiful, she did not have the face of the girl who sadly watched the ocean pass around her, or who stood peacefully still before taking a running leap off a cliff. Hers was not the face of a girl who wanted to end her life. He hadn’t saved her by jumping after her, but perhaps he was the catalyst for something far greater for her. In that moment with Paris reflected in her eyes and her hand stowed securely in his own, he felt like it was his responsibility to keep her safe, to make her happy. If his help was what would bring any measure of happiness to her life then he would do it gladly.

  “Seriously,” she started, breaking his concentration. “How are you able to do this?”

  “I can’t really explain it,” he shrugged. His eyes were stuck on hers, not caring for the beauty around them so much as the interpretation of it on her lovely face. “The easiest explanation is that I’m not beholden to the rules of this place like you are. The world is very different where I come from.”

  “And where is that exactly?” she whispered. He could see that he had her full attention, and maybe a bit of her trust. He understood that she was asking for answers to questions he never had to answer before, but in that space with her he felt as though he could give her what she wanted.

  “I’ll tell you,” he promised. She looked hopefully up at him, the color of the sky changing behind her as the morning light started to trickle in. “But not yet. Name another place.”

  She took one last glance around her, taking in as much as she could manage in so little time. “Everywhere.”

  He took her anywhere she asked: outside the gates of Buckingham Palace in London; beneath a stone post and lintel of Stonehenge; the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge in New York; the Vatican in Italy. He kept her hand in his as they made their way around the western hemisphere, eventually making their way to the harbor in Sydney and the city streets of Athens beneath the ancient ruins of the Acropolis. It was in Greece when he noticed their travels were having an adverse affect on her. She nearly stumbled to the ground of the agora and it was only the grip of his hand that kept her on both feet.

  “It’s fine. I’m just tired,” she protested. Her face, though never free of the awe of each new destination, grew wary.

  “I think I should take your home, Zoe.”

  “No, no,” she protested. “Just one more place, please! I’ve never seen snow.” Her head drooped backwards as her voice cut off. He caught her in his arms as her body went limp with unconsciousness.

  He found a stone bench nearby and carefully placed her on top of it. He only knew she lived in Santa Barbara but didn’t know exactly where in the city. He rifled through her bag until he found her wallet. Inside was some cash, a few credit cards and her driver’s license. Immediately he was taken aback by the face in the picture that stared back at him. It must have been a few years old but it was definitely Zoe. She was all eyes and hair, smiling back at him with the carefree manner of a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. He wondered when she last looked like that, and if she ever would again.

  He quickly committed her address to memory and slid her license back into its compartment. As he did a small line of numbers caught his eye. It was her 25th birthday. Something inside him turned dark as he looked again at the smiling Zoe captured in the photo, then to the current Zoe in front of him, passed out on a bench beneath the Acropolis. He saw just a hint of what he imagined was her former self when in Paris, but it was clear to him that most of her light had diminished considerably over the years. He could barely fathom the amount of profound sadness required to take one’s own life on their birthday.

  Something else caught his eye. Zoe Thanatos. There was a ping of recognition somewhere in the back of his mind, though he couldn’t place what it meant. Everything in him tensed at the name Thanatos. A distant memory fought to come into the forefront of his mind. It was a name he recognized, but from his past, and his home.

  Zoe’s eyes opened into darkness. As they adjusted she faintly recognized her own bedroom. It was dark outside and the clock beside the bed displayed an ungodly early morning hour. A thin blanket had been placed over her fully clothed body, and her feet were snug inside a pair of socks. Strangely, she had no recollection of ever coming home. The bedroom door was ajar with a dim stream of light seeping in aroun
d the corners. She got up quietly and made her way to the living room.

  The lamp beside the couch was turned on and illuminating Evan, who was leaning back comfortably into the sofa. His concentration was on a thin brick of glass glowing with white light as he moved his finger across the screen. From the large window that looked out onto the posh, palm tree lined street, she could see both her car and his rental parked in the driveway.

  An image of the Acropolis in Greece came to mind like the memory of a great dream. It was the last moment she could remember before waking up in her bedroom. Somehow he’d found out where she lived, taken her home, put her to bed, and then picked up both their cars from Ventura half an hour away. She really only needed one guess how he managed all of that.

  His ability to go anywhere within an instant still astounded her. How was he able to do that? She decided to take him up on his promise to tell her.

  “You’re welcome to sleep on the couch if you’d like,” she offered, her voice breaking the silence that had fallen throughout the house.

  He looked up and smiled kindly. “I’m not much of a sleeper, but thank you. How are you feeling?”

  “Hmm, a bit jet-lagged I suppose.” Even she was surprised by the joke.

  “I brought your car back for you,” he announced, his head moving in the direction of the driveway.

  “I saw. Thank you. Driving isn’t as fast as popping in and out as you please, is it?”

  “It’s not so bad. Freeways are interesting.” He looked contemplative at the thought.

  “Yes, well perhaps you’ve missed out on the kind and courteous ways in which people in California drive on those freeways,” she mused. She moved to the sofa and took a seat on the opposite end facing him.

  “I, uh, got something for you.” He fumbled for an elegantly decorated box resting on the coffee table. It was long, narrow, and pistachio green in color with gold filigree decorations. ‘Ladurée’ was printed elegantly on the top in gold. Inside she found eight of the most delicate and brightly colored pastries she had ever seen. They smelled fresh.

  “Macarons?” she questioned gently.

  “From Paris. When you passed out in Greece I had to look at your license for your home address. I noticed that it was your birthday and you seemed so enchanted by Paris...” he drifted off, his eyes still on her as he quieted

  She had zoned out for a moment, lost in her thoughts as her fingers moved lightly along the precious gold filigree.

  “I thought you should have something special for your birthday. Something to remind you of Paris,” he finished.

  From out of nowhere a ball formed in her throat and she had to swallow it down to keep from erupting in a fit of emotion. It was a while before she felt composed enough to speak. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “I hope not,” he replied, his tone doubtful.

  “No, you’re right. Taking me around the world, the memories of which are a whirlwind in my mind right now... that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Finally her eyes lifted up from the delicate script of the box and met his.

  Something in the way he looked at her made her feel vulnerable. He had witnessed her attempt to take her life, held her in his arms, and taken her to places she’d only ever seen on a map or in a book. Yet she knew nothing about him other than that he was different.

  “So you rescue strangers, take them around the world and then go to France to buy them expensive pastries for their birthday. Who exactly are you, Evan?” she asked.

  “Believe me; I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shook his head, as though trying to do away with an unpleasant thought.

  “Okay, I get that, but why me? Yeah, you saw that I was sad and going through something, but that doesn’t explain why you did what you did. So far all you’ve told me is that you couldn’t let me do it. I guess I just don’t understand why.”

  He shifted around in his seat, balancing one leg at an angle on the cushion so that he was facing her more directly. “I don’t really have an explanation, Zoe. I noticed you. That’s the only way I can think to articulate it.”

  The words pricked at her heart. He noticed her. No one had ever said anything like that to her. In the past she had boyfriends and dates, acquaintances and relationships, none of which were exceptional. She never thought of herself as someone who deserved noticing.

  “Look, Evan... There is a part of me that feels I should thank you for jumping off the cliff after me. I mean, clearly that’s the craziest thing anyone has ever done for me, or possibly for anyone else. But it wasn’t some fluke that I jumped in the first place, and I’m not even sure that, if given the opportunity to do it again, I wouldn’t take it or any other opportunity to do what you prevented me from doing. That being said, I absolutely appreciate everything you’ve done for me since.” She inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. She searched his face for any indication that he understood her. She had never been very good at expressing herself but hated the idea of being disingenuous. If he never noticed her she would have jumped off that cliff and likely died, never having the opportunity to see a little of the world in a way only he could show her.

  “So you might try to kill yourself again?” he asked quietly. His eyes narrowed and the singular source of light in the room cast a shadow on his face that made his expression look far graver.

  The word ‘kill’ was cold and dark. She didn’t even like to think of her actions as an attempt at killing herself, even though it was exactly what she had been doing.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like you can follow me around waiting to catch me.” She thought she saw him scowl at her words. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  “Why did you even attempt it in the first place?” he asked.

  Zoe sat for a moment considering her answer. Distractedly she opened the box of macarons and grabbed one of the colorful pastries and nibbled on it. Strawberry. Delicious.

  “I haven’t been happy in a very long time,” she said finally. A year ago, literally to the day, I woke up and felt so empty. I tried to find something to make me feel happy again, but nothing ever did. The year dragged by so slowly, and every single day I woke up with that same emptiness. I couldn’t take it anymore. What is a life worth living if there’s no happiness in it?” It was easier to articulate the words than she thought it would be. She’d never spoken them out loud before, and the sound of her thoughts in her own ears put a weight in her chest, like gravity pulling her to the ground.

  “So that’s why you went to the island.”

  “Yes, and you intervened. A part of me wonders if you were meant to and I wasn’t supposed to die, or if your interference wasn’t supposed to happen and my life is altered as a result. How can I know what was meant to happen?”

  Evan let out a slow breath and cleared his throat. He adjusted in his seat again so that he was facing her more directly. Zoe noticed he was absentmindedly running a finger over the glass device in his hand.

  “You’ll never really know,” he replied. “Fate and destiny aren’t things I think about or put stock in. I’m of the belief that things happen the way they do because people make them happen that way. Whether or not you were meant to die on your twenty-fifth birthday... All I can say is that it is the day after your birthday and you’re still here. Does it matter if I had a hand in it or not?”

  She considered his words, trying on his idea that things happened because of people, not because of fate or destiny, or whatever else people believe in. She generally believed in what she could see, and especially that which was rational. Fate and destiny didn’t meet her criteria. The more she thought about it the more she realized she was a product of action, rather than of fate. She acted out on taking her life and he acted out on stopping her. Whatever happened to her next would be her responsibility, and it gave her a sense of purpose to know that she may have more control over her life than fate, destiny, or anything else.

  “Fo
r what it’s worth, Zoe, I hope you decide not to try again. You should live long enough to realize you have more to give to this world than just your life.”

  She breathed in deeply, feeling the need to fill her lungs with more oxygen than necessary. It was the second time he’d told her something that no one else ever had. In her experience people were mainly out for themselves, which made his rescue all the rarer. If there were Good Samaritans in the world she had never met one. Not until Evan.

  “Is everyone like you where you’re from?” she asked.

  His face stretched out, surprise registering in his face from her question. “Where I’m from?” he asked, emphasizing the word.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world who can travel thousands of miles in the blink of an eye,” she retorted. “So you must not be from here.”

  “Hmm.” His attention caught on something random in the room and he stared after it. Whatever he was thinking about must have been gnawing at him from the inside; she’d never seen anyone so pensive. She doubted most people took the time to think anyway. “You did promise you would tell me,” she reminded him, interrupting whatever internal conversation he was having with himself.

  “I did,” he agreed. “Fundamentally people are the same no matter where you go. Where I’m from is no exception.”

  “And where is that?” Finally! She was going to find out the truth.

  He took a slow, deep breath. “You have to understand that what I’m about to tell you will sound bizarre and impossible to you, while for me it is just an aspect of my life,” he started. “Where I’m from we’ve advanced in science and technology far beyond what you have here. Our laws of nature are different, both in how they work and how we understand them. That’s why I can do things here that seem superhuman, for lack of a better word.”

  A voice from within her, whether it was her heart or her head, told her to show him the door and call the police. Maybe she really was dead and stuck in some kind of limbo existence as punishment for not believing in God or donating to the bell ringers standing outside the mall at Christmas. She didn’t believe in an afterlife any more than she believed in God. She believed in what she could see in front of her and what could be proven. Evan may have been saying things any rational person would deem improbable, but he articulated them with such conviction that he couldn’t be lying unless he was psychologically unhinged. He appeared to be perfectly normal, and spoke in a manner which convinced her he was perfectly normal.