“I don’t bite.” Lynden nearly rolled her eyes and leaned back against the divan, holding out the glass of water to Coal. “You have a beautiful home. The couch is very cozy.” Lynden patted a spot next to where she sat.
“Thank you,” Sarah responded, quiet, dubious. She sat beside Lynden and met Coal’s waiting gaze. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Nor I.” Coal smiled kindly, chancing a look at Lynden.
“Ms. Nichols surprised me when she called yesterday.”
“Yes, she is quite fond of surprises.”
“I wish I was available sooner, but I had to work. I’m afraid to miss a day. I guess it worked out, though, since Ms. Nichols had school.” She chuckled nervously, staring at her hands.
Silence fell upon them like a gentle weight. Coal sipped the water, his attention roaming back toward the digital photo frames on the wall. Captured memories, both happy and formal, greeted his curiosity as unknown faces and family smiled from the digital surface.
What was it like to possess such a wealth of reminders when those you love are gone?
Many times Coal wished he possessed photographs of those he left behind and lost in New Eden, believing it would comfort the ache. And yet, sometimes, he wondered if it would only increase the longing. Perhaps fading images protected the heart and allowed it to continue on.
“That’s your mother,” Sarah volunteered as a picture surfaced of a young woman with light blond hair, similar to his own, and bright blue eyes. “She had what I called ‘wounded critter’ syndrome. Her heartstrings were easily pulled and she’d give the shirt off her back to help another. Such a compassionate soul.”
“My older sister, Ember, is similar in nature.” Coal smiled politely as his fingers fidgeted around the cup and he shifted in the chair.
“She met your father at the Emerald City Comicon, and they married three weeks later in Vegas.” Sarah lost focus as she stared past Coal’s face. “I was so angry with her. Such a foolish, dumb thing to do. But she met someone as impulsive and spontaneous as her.” A quiet laugh left the elderly woman and Coal took another sip on his water.
How did one reply to such a statement?
He knew not.
“Connor looked like a puppy dog, happily trailing behind Cami everywhere she went,” she continued, her voice growing distant. “I thought for sure my daughter was a rebound relationship. I heard he had a nasty breakup a few months before with another young woman, named Brianna, I think. Anyway. I was convinced the wounded critter syndrome had finally ruined my daughter’s life.” Sarah’s gaze traveled back to Coal. “And, too, I believed she was star-struck. You see, she watched ‘Eco-Crafting Eden’ religiously and Connor was a King in that. That’s why they met. He was part of an exhibition at Comicon.”
Coal stiffened and Lynden shot him a worried look.
“Cami was insistent, though. They were in love.” Sarah studied Coal’s face, her sadness etched into every wrinkle. “A year after they married, she signed up to join New Eden Township. Connor didn’t want to. He made it known that he had no desire to be part of his friend’s ‘latest scheme’ and wanted to move on with his life, to be part of the real world.” His grandmother cast a nervous glance toward Lynden, then continued. “But, like a puppy dog, he trailed after Cami into the biodome when he found out what she had done, and I never saw my impulsive, caring, fun-loving daughter ever again.”
Coal placed the glass of water onto the carpet and took his grandmother’s hands in his. “She and my father were very much in love from the stories I have heard. He still mourns her death to this day.” He studied their hands, one large and calloused, the other soft and wrinkled. “I wish I knew her. There is not a day that goes by where I do not ponder the woman who lost her life so I may have it. I carry shame over my birth, even though I know I am not truly at fault.”
“What a beautiful thing to say.” Sarah squeezed Coal’s hand and let go, and tensed against the forming emotions. “I see her face in yours. Maybe it’s her soul.”
“I shall hold such comforting thoughts close to my heart,” he whispered.
“Tell me about your sister?” Sarah asked, wiping away a tear. “You are twins?”
“Yes. Ember is kind to a fault, always wise, insightful, and fiercely protective. Often I am surprised when her temper emerges when defending someone she loves.” Coal gently laughed. “We are nothing alike. She is shorter than I, with curly, strawberry blond hair. We do share eyes, noses, and the famed Hansen dimple, though.”
“Oh, yes.” His grandmother laughed, a lovely sound once more reminding Coal of his sister. “Your father could charm a snake with that smile.” Coal grinned and Lynden lowered her eyes, playing with the ring on her thumb. She angled her head toward the kitchen while casually sipping on her Coke. Sarah looked over at Lynden, then back at Coal. “If you’re anything like Connor, it’s probably a necessary form of protection.”
Coal smiled wider. “Indeed.”
“Do you have any other pictures?” Both Coal and his grandmother turned to Lynden.
“Yes. Let me get them.”
Sarah eased out of the divan, pausing to get her bearings. Coal came to a stand in response, years of training as a gentleman springing into action out of habit. His grandmother gave him a curious look and then padded across the living room, disappearing down a hallway.
When alone, he chanced a look at Lynden and said, “Rather trite, but thank you.”
A small, bashful smile broke through the aloof countenance. “We need to leave in a half-hour,” she said, taking another sip of her Coke. He nodded and rose from his seat once more when his grandmother returned.
“Sit down,” Sarah said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t fuss over me. Here.”
A strange, rolled up device was offered to him. He curled his fingers around the furled metal. “What is this called?”
“A Scroll. They’ve been obsolete for almost as long as you’ve been alive, but all my pictures are on there and I’m too lazy to move them over to a cloud file. Feel free to email any photos to yourself.”
He pushed the button and it unclasped and flattened out onto his lap. This was a piece of technology he was not familiar with. Nevertheless, he recognized the power button and pushed it. A screen lit up and he marveled at how it curved and rippled with movement. The start screen stared back at him a few seconds later and he handed it back to Sarah so she could enter her password.
“Just swipe ‘camihansen,’ one word.”
A wistful smile touched his lips as he obeyed the instructions.
Was his grandmother alone?
Did she have any other family?
Once he passed the security screen, he looked up for direction.
“Select the ‘gallery’ icon. The pictures will appear next.”
Time passed in a merry blur as he eventually squeezed between Lynden and his grandmother on the tiny divan, scanning through her large collection of photographs. She shared stories and memories, and he soaked them up until he was so full he feared he would overflow with a multitude of bittersweet emotions. He especially loved seeing younger pictures of his father, and those of The Elements as well. Lynden rose from the divan sometime later, and Coal swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat.
“Hey, we need to get going. Volo Rail waits for no man.” Lynden looked to Sarah. “Sorry. We have another appointment.”
Coal offered his hand to help his grandmother stand. “May I visit you again?”
“I would like that. Cami was all I had left in the world.”
The number of divorces and broken families never ceased to shock Coal. “We are family,” he said, covering her hand with both of his. “I shall make way to Portland again and see you.”
They stared at one another and Coal felt awkward, never having much practice in the art of goodbyes. In a moment of courage, he folded the small frame of his grandmother into his arms and held her close. With stiff, awkward mo
vements, he pulled away and strode toward the door and out into the front yard. The town car driver opened a door for Lynden, who slid into the backseat. Coal lifted his hand in farewell once more. A strange ache in his chest persisted, even after the driver closed the door and Coal had settled beside Lynden. Partings and distances were still difficult concepts for him to digest and, sometimes, he wondered if they always would be.
The car rolled away a few moments later and Coal released a pent-up breath. Lynden fell against the door and stared out the window once they were alone, careful to keep her distance from him. In a way, he was grateful. His mind and heart were too full, and he desired to think over the stories and pictures in solitude.
The sun lowered behind the foothills and cityscape just as he and Lynden arrived at Union Station. The old brick building served the original rail station as well as the new high-speed rail. Bronze and coral glinted off the tinted windows of the magnetic levitation train, reflections of a sleepy sky chasing its celestial pillow to the other side of the world.
They boarded the maglev in silence and sauntered toward a private cabin. She had reserved the cabin when purchasing their tickets that morning under a pseudonym and paying entirely in cash, ensuring the media was not alerted of their whereabouts. So far, the plan had worked. The thin metal door slid closed behind them, and she slumped onto a seat against the window, placing her forehead onto the glass, just as before. He watched her, grabbing a pole near a seat when the train took off. Within a minute, they traveled at high speed above the landscape on a twin track.
The city, trees, and setting sun whirred by at, what felt like, the speed of his pulse, and he whispered, “Lynden,” and realized he had spoken his thought aloud. His heart and head were full of her, a growing affection that consumed him night and day. In fact, the swelling emotions felt close to a form of insanity at times. She lifted her head from its resting place and peered at him. Their gazes collided and she blinked, the veneer of indifference falling away for a moment.
Coal studied her face, enjoying how the light reflected tiny flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. Faint freckles danced across her skin; and he thought of how Norah often proclaimed to her children that freckles were the product of faerie kisses, especially to Mist who boasted many. Today, Lynden’s hair was down, the bright, colorful strands caressing her shoulders, the tips curled ever so slightly. She considered him once more, before returning to meditate while gazing out the window.
“Motion sick?”
“Heart sick,” he replied, focusing on his fingers. The charcoal stains had nearly faded. Black still tinted the skin around his nails and some of the more stubborn grooves in his fingerprints. Willing courage, he finally said, “This afternoon is a gift I shall cherish all of my days. I do not know how to properly thank you.”
“Then don’t.” Lynden studied him. “Sometimes words ruin everything.” She offered a quick smile, then leaned against the window and closed her eyes.
Seconds passed by quickly in tandem with the landscape, simultaneously feeling slow and forced. Individual trees blurred into each other until they formed a giant green mass. Serious gray clouds to the west threatened weather, drowning the blue sky before making good on such promises.
The maglev was thrilling, especially when buzzing over the cities and between buildings, and at an impressive speed of three hundred miles per hour. Now that they traveled over the open countryside, the speed accelerated to five hundred-and-fifty miles per hour. Which meant nothing to Coal other than they were traveling in haste even quicker than before. At least two stories above the ground, they flew over the landscape quicker than one could blink.
Coal released a quiet breath. His thoughts were poor company. A strange tension hung in the air, and he wanted to engage Lynden in conversation to ease the discomfort. How he longed for her, content with even the smallest morsel of interaction. Anxious, he slipped a hand into his pocket and touched the gift he had brought along, troubled as to when to present it to her, a dilemma he had pondered since yesterday.
“I feel peckish,” he finally said to break the silence.
Lynden opened her eyes with blasé irritation, an emotional response he knew was entirely in jest. “God, you’re always hungry. If I’m not saving your sorry ass, I’m feeding you. You’re worse than a dog.” She looked at his feet. “At least you’re wearing shoes.”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I fear I am far too indebted to you for any hope of repayment.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no kidding. And, you still owe me a favor.”
“Shall I order us dessert? Perhaps chocolate will act as a first installment toward my debt.”
“No, I’ll order us something. It’ll be a surprise.”
Coal sighed. “Please tell me a blindfold is not involved.”
“A blindfold is not involved.”
“Any transforming strawberries or poisoned apples?”
“What’s wrong with transforming strawberries?”
“Nothing, but a man should be prepared.”
“Oh please. Toughen up.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he tapped her nose until she drew away and shouted, “Knock it off!” making him laugh.
“Toughen up,” he goaded.
“Whatever.”
“Does this surprise involve chocolate?” He grinned comically, begging her with his eyes.
“What’s with you and chocolate?” He remained silent, offering a cherubic expression. Lynden exhaled and slid down in the seat as if her very being had deflated, while exhibiting the most impressive unimpressed look he had seen yet. “Fine. It involves chocolate. Stop your whining.”
“Excellent. Then I consent to this next surprise.”
“I think you just duped me.”
“Moi? Non Mademoiselle.” He bowed gallantly. “I am but your humble servant.”
“You’re so full of shit.” A hint of a smile touched her red-painted lips and Coal grinned in reply.
A few minutes later, a waiter appeared at their cabin door with a tray boasting two bowls of a solid yet creamy white mound, dusted off with a glittering brown substance and curls of chocolate. Lynden left a tip, then released a tiny squeal as she bounced onto the bench seat with her bowl.
Cold seeped into Coal’s fingers, and his attention shifted from Lynden to his bowl in astonishment. “What is it called?”
“Ice cream, and it’s topped with hot chocolate mix.”
“Truly?” Coal examined the dessert more closely.
How could something be both cold and hot?
“I have never tasted ice cream before.”
“What? Weird.” Her eyes rounded in disbelief. “How have you not tried ice cream?”
He quirked a smile. “I blame you.”
“Shut up.”
“We do not have ice in New Eden and only goat’s milk for cream.”
“I feel sorry for your childhood.” Lynden wrinkled her nose. “Take a bite already.”
Coal obeyed and the cold, creamy substance coated his lips and tongue in a sweet balm. His head fell back as his senses drowned in a mystical transcendence. “Ecstasy,” he sighed. Lynden grinned and spooned another bite into her mouth. When finished, which he accomplished with much gusto, he said, “I could drift away in eternal bliss.”
While enjoying another bite, she somehow managed, “I ran out of chocolate syrup one night.” Covering her mouth, she continued, “Out of desperation, I sprinkled my ice cream with hot chocolate mix and fell in love. So. Damn. Good.”
“Indeed.”
“I want to plant my face in the bowl and lick it clean.” Instead, her bowl clanged as she stacked it on top of his on an empty chair. “Nervous about tonight?”
“No, I desire answers. I left to find information, and I have been doing a rather poor job thus far.”
“Information on what?”
Coal released a heavy breath. “Now my turn for surprises. Come, sit beside me.”
“Um, OK.”
&nbs
p; “I wished for you to know before it was revealed this evening.”
“Are you a woman?”
He rolled his eyes and slid her a humored look. “Yes, actually. Do I make for a handsome young woman?” Lynden’s eyes roamed over him, and he lifted a corner of his mouth. “Perhaps I should wear a skirt akin to Mack’s.”
Lynden burst into laughter. “Nah, you’d give Mack a complex. He’s too fond of his legs to be showed up by yours.”
“True. Although, I do enjoy watching him preen.”
“Oh god. Don’t remind me.” She sauntered across the small space and lowered next to him, leaning her head onto his shoulder and draping her legs over his. Every muscle tightened with the feel of her against him, but he feigned ignorance of her presence in order to focus. “Tell me,” she whispered, and Coal cleared his throat and attempted to focus once more.
He powered on his Cranium and brought up a message screen. With a steady finger, he swiped the first message: We may not speak aloud of such information.
She nodded and so he continued, sharing of how the Watson siblings were alive, and she stilled. In as few words as possible, he shared all the background he had regarding Fillion and Hanley. The message ended with his fear that her mother was ignorant of everything and he did not wish for Lynden to be with the hack tonight, extending heartfelt apologies for not sharing sooner.
“Holy shit...” Her head popped off his shoulder and she jumped to a stand. Her normally pale complexion turned ashen and she assessed him, as if afraid he was jesting. Lynden bit her fingernails for a few seconds, then she sat and erased his message, swiping one of her own: Is my brother OK? He’s seen Willow?
“Lyn,” Coal said, and she positioned herself on the seat to better see him. When she lifted an eyebrow in a nervous gesture, he found courage and whispered, “She’s Oaklee.”
Her eyes slowly widened as the information registered. “Oh my god.” She stood up and paced the cabin, eventually looking at him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He reached for her hand but she swatted him away. “Don’t touch me. I’m so pissed off at you! And Mack! And Fillion! Assholes. All of you.”
Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 46