by Lori Darnell
“But I love her. I don’t want to be without her.” I pleaded with James.
“You have to talk to her. I know you’re behaving yourselves, but if you want to be alone, you need to hide. Heaven knows your getting so good at hiding from me, and I know all the good hiding spots.” James said pointedly, shaking his head. He was referring to the day before, when Jill and I were able to elude him for the whole day. But for me, that wasn’t the memorable part. Yesterday was the first time that Jill kissed me. I hoped the memory didn’t show on my face; even James might have had difficulty leaving us to ourselves if he knew how strongly it affected me.
“I promise – I’ll talk to Jill,” I said.
~~~~~~~~~~
Many months passed. The three of us continued to train with much success. Very few people ever doubted that Jill and I were exceeding all the Church’s expectations under the close and watchful eye of James. We were even exceeding James other expectations with the extra lessons he had for us. However, because of our natural talents, we had a lot of free time. Jill and I spent all of that time together. Usually we hid in the herb garden near James’ office because, like James said from the beginning, no one ever goes there.
On my eighteenth birthday I walked toward my small room, the one at the end of the hall, deep in thought about my future. So much would be coming to an end. Our training through the Church was almost finished. Jill and I were inseparable. James talked about the future often; preparing us for the day when we would likely be separated and sent out by the Church to provide our talents against the accused. I had just left James and one of his many lectures about the importance of keeping a safe distance from Jill these last few months. This conversation was about not physical intimacy, but about open intimacy of any kind. Any glance held too long or touch given too freely could be interpreted as impurity, and punishment and separation would follow.
I sighed irritably. I knew we had to be careful. These lectures from James were becoming old hat. Besides, how would it be possible to think about Jill, and not think about her lips, her breath, her arms around my neck as she kissed me long and lovingly as the sun began to sink in the sky…
When I opened the door, the object of our last conversation was sitting demurely on my bed, waiting for me. We looked at each other, and I knew she could tell exactly what I had been thinking about. I felt the familiar creeping heat rise up my neck - she still had the power to make me blush just by looking at me, and I still liked it - a lot. “Jill, one of these days I am going to burst into flames when you do that.” Her light giggle brought it back all over again. I sighed and looked down at the bed beside her.
James had come earlier and dropped off a present and a box with our robes. The present was a leather jacket he told me would be useful for when I leave this place. Jill and I had opened it earlier that day, while we were in James’ office. The second box sat on the bed opened. It was a set of dark blue robes; robes of a student who was about to finish his training. Jill had worn similar robes for quite a while, but I didn’t notice it consciously until today. I was too busy noticing the smile on her lips the depths of those sea foam eyes, or the way her body moved next to mine. Physically, I felt aware of her all of the time.
Jill stood up from my bed and looked at me. She was so beautiful. Her silence never bothered me the way it did most others; I had grown accustomed to paying more attention to her body language, and the quiet communication of her mind. There were very few secrets she could keep from me now, even if she wanted to, though she never did. She reached up to touch my cheek. I instinctively rested my face closer to her hand. I could feel the hum of her skin touching me; her smile was warm and inviting. I reached out and brushed her long hair back from her shoulder, like thousands of white silk threads unbound. They fell in gentle waves away from her shoulder.
I leaned down, once again ignoring James’ warnings, magnetized by the desire to be closer to her. She was such a tiny thing to me, like a small doll, though she was slightly taller than many girls at five foot nine inches tall. But I had grown to be much bigger than most of the boys here. Even at the age of fifteen, toppling the height of six foot seven inches, no one could look me in the eye - not without craning their neck to do it. The thought of others looking up to me made me laugh, and Jill laughed too, like she had heard every unspoken word, just like it had always been between us.
Jill had decided I was taking too long to be the man, I guess. She reached up with her other hand and pulled me down to her. She brushed her lips across mine just for an instant and then pulled away, staring dead center into my eyes, making her challenge to me evident. I moved forward and captured her mouth with mine. It was soft and warm. I let my lips part, urging hers to do the same. Her mouth was like wet satin. She was sweet and willing. A low, breathy sound escaped her mouth, as though encouraging me to kiss her even more deeply. I loved the way she responded to me. I could have sat there all day kissing her. But like James said, public time alone was a bad idea, and we needed to get to class. James would be waiting, anxiously. Reluctantly, I ended the kiss and she tried to follow me. Teasingly, I pressed my finger to her lips. “Jill, we have to go, for now. James is going to have a heart attack if we don’t get to class soon.” Jill gave me a little pout, but she grabbed her things and then followed me out the door.
I thought of how James was always worried about me or about Jill, but mostly worried about the two of us together. Over the years James became even more like a father than a teacher. The training took a lot out of me; often I would just sleep in James’ room so we could get started again in the morning. And of course, Jill would be miffed because he sent her away. It was on these sleepover occasions when we went to the main buildings of the complex, that there would be snickers and stares. It was disturbing to me that people of the Church would condone this behavior. And it shocked me that they would think this way of James. He was a good person.
We would train, and then when I was too tired to try anymore, we would talk; about philosophy, plants, the way things used to be, any subject that would occupy our minds. He was a good and kind teacher. The only subject that was continuously off limits was my desire to see Jacob, or at least see if he was okay.
“James, I just want to know if he is here. I owe him so much." I pleaded with him one day.
“No you don’t, Marcus,” James replied. “You would have survived with or without Jacob’s help. I know that now. Marcus, you don’t understand. The Reverend training… it changes people. The person you knew before may not be in there, anymore. He may not even know who you are. In the past nine years you have grown so much; you’re much bigger and stronger than you used to be, but I don’t want to see you to get hurt.” I frowned and turned away from him. I recognized when James was through talking.
“You don’t have long until you’re able to work for the Church officially,” James said, changing the subject. “Next week, you and I are going out to start your final phase of training. I am going to take you to the graveyard."
This training was the one I feared the most. We sat in this class many times over. We would wear hospital masks to shield away from the stench of rotting flesh and spreading disease. This is where they would thin the herd of kids who had what it took to be witnesses. Those who didn’t manage to make the grade would never have the chance to retake the test. It was the ultimate pass/fail test. I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Chapter 11
There were twenty-three of us in the graveyard. There were only four bodies. The task at hand was going to be difficult; no one really expected to need any more than that.
The stench rose up around us in a thick cloud, the unmistakable smell of rancid rotting flesh. Even though our seats were the furthest away it was enough to make me lose my breakfast, had I eaten. Luckily neither of us ate today. It is good to be psychic sometimes. Jill secretly grasped my hand to give me courage.
The bodies were at varying degrees of decay. The first, which Jill had expertly
sat us nearest to, was the most recently deceased. I looked at the woman's body. They had placed her in generic robes, much like our own. She looked very much like she was sleeping. The thought occurred to me that she may have been someone from a previous class. Or worse, someone recently murdered for the purpose of this class alone. The thought of this made me shudder. Everyone had secrets. Who was I to betray them? It was a horrifying invasion of privacy.
The victims didn't even know they were going to betray their guarded secrets. Somehow, this seemed worse than everything I had seen and experienced within the Church walls; abused children, merciless punishment, and consciousless killing all seemed to pale in comparison to coming after a person in death.
The other bodies in the room were progressively worse. The body at the far end was no longer recognizable as a man or a woman. That body was lightly wrapped in gauze. My stomach heaved again at the thought of what it may look like under the thin gauze wrappings. I glanced at Jill, and she reached toward me, lightly touching my thigh beneath the cover of the sleeve of her robe – both a comfort, and a distraction. One half of me was comforted; the other half was looking into her eyes and imagining those lips... but this was not the place, and it surely wasn't the time. I coughed lightly, and she pulled her hand back, quietly smirking. The instructor called for attention, and we both turned to the front, feigning attentiveness.
"Class, as we begin our final phase of training, we are reminded that death still holds a great many mysteries. The bodies I have provided are to test you on your ability to effectively carry out the duties of a witness for the Church. Each one has a secret. Most of them we know. Each of you will be required to reach into their minds and pluck the secrets, as though they were ripe fruits for the taking." The Priest leading the class was trying to be funny, but I could see several of the students grab their mouths in nauseous reaction... Jill and I were among them. His inappropriate humor was lost on us.
"Tim, you will start us off today. The body closest to Jill is the freshest. See if you can reach into her mind." The priest looked around the class again. "As you are all well aware, there are no grades, no second attempts. We have explained before that if you cannot separate yourself from their mind, they will take you under with them. No one here will be able to save you." The Priest eyed me speculatively as he said this. This was the same look I got from him often, since I had saved that boy many years ago – a freak occurrence, James had explained to everyone, owing to the fact that the boy was simply unconscious, having fainted from the stress. I had only startled him awake, according to James. They believed the story easily enough, but were still suspicious, even now.
I looked up at Tim. This was the first student I ever met personally, the same Tim that had ushered me out of his classroom, after I had seen my first victim of witness training. Tim had struggled to get to where he was today. At twenty-five, he was considered too old for this work, but he was still allowed to try, not having found any other vocation. Maybe they all hoped he would fail. I hoped he would succeed in spite of them. I looked up at Tim and tried to smile encouragingly. He grimaced in return. We all shifted to the side so he could have clear access to the woman's body.
Tim walked up to the woman and placed his hand on her temple. Tim’s gifts were so subtle he still needed physical contact to create the connection. I fought the nausea as I pictured him having to do this with the decimated corpse at the end. But Tim would endure it. He was strong, I told myself. I didn’t want to consider the alternative.
As he concentrated, I could feel the connection grow between them. I was excited to see this first hand. Tim was doing so well. He was able to sift through her last memories.
Then everything went wrong. The memories shifted again. These were the very last memories of the victim’s. Tim became trapped in the memory of her death. I could feel it coming and broke my vision so I didn’t go with him; the Priest tried to pull Tim away from the woman, but it was too late. The woman’s last memory, being raped and beaten to death, was intense, and her last breath had taken Tim with her, as he uttered a horrifying, tormented scream and followed her into her death. Collapsing, he lay motionless on the floor next to the body. I heard Jill crying next to me, but I didn’t dare look. Her emotions would be my undoing. I was barely holding it together myself.
“Well, I told you so,” The priest stated with great arrogance. “The boy did not have the talent for this. Take his body away.” The priest sneered at Tim’s body as he spoke to James, who was standing behind me.
“That was uncalled for; everyone here is trying their best. Why don’t you give us a demonstration of your ability, if you’re so confident?” James retorted in kind.
“Watch yourself, James. If your boy doesn’t make it, you may be knocked down a few pegs… where you belong.”
“I am sure you feel that way. However, I have complete faith in Marcus.”
Rolling my eyes toward Jill, I wished again I could escape being the subject of so many of these arguments. The Priests were not happy that I was being favored. But if I succeeded, the success would belong to James alone because he was the only one who had been training me. This was mostly the case for Jill as well, but James would not claim her as his student for her own safety. She still had training with the other students from time to time. I was kept isolated, which suited me fine. Other than Jill, I had not really met anyone who encouraged me to interact with them.
I saw two men in white jumpsuits enter the classroom to take what was left of Tim away. They had been waiting outside, ready for the first victim. I wondered darkly how many victims there would be today, shuddering involuntarily at the thought. I felt completely powerless during this display of our powers. I could have released him, but I couldn’t expose myself. I could have saved him, but not without condemning myself. It might happen again, more than once, and there was nothing I could do about it. I shifted restlessly in my seat.
As I was watching the men lay Tim’s body outside on an empty, long, white tarp, it dawned on me – they actually expected many more casualties. I was startled when I heard the Priest speak of me again.
“Clearly, your boy is ready to do this now. Marcus, you will read the woman next. I want to know who she died to protect.” The Priest was agitated with the boasts James had made about my abilities. Now, it seemed, the priest was ready to prove James wrong. I swallowed hard, hoping I was going to be able to prove James right.
Jill stiffened beside me, obviously resisting the urge to grab me and stop me. She had not expected me to go so soon, it appeared. I didn’t have to look at her to sense the panic she felt. I gave her a weak smile, then rose to my calling.
The woman before me was obviously dead, but she was also still. I tried to focus on her stillness, reminding myself that she would not do anything until I was ready, and then I closed my eyes.
It was so much easier to force my visions now that I had years of practice behind me. In my mind I could see her living body. She was a glowing target, so full of life. Her sun-streaked, light brown hair was blowing in the breeze. She was in a field. Somewhere in Northern Ireland. It was chilly but the sun warmed her. She was waiting. We were standing in tall grass, possibly wheat, and something was coming toward us. It was shorter that the grass, springing the grass away from the center on both sides like a boat through water. She didn’t seem to be afraid; in fact, she was excited to receive the projectile launching up at her from the tall grass. It was her daughter. She was protecting her daughter.
The little girl looked right at me, or where I should be. She was very pretty. She had long dark brown hair, chestnut, and big brown eyes. They were just like her mother’s. “Oh Jenna, my baby, I will never let them take you from me!” she exclaimed, rising up her offspring up in the sky and tickling her as she swung the girl down into the wheat, both subsiding on the ground in giggles. I knew her name. I wish I didn’t.
I broke the vision while I could still see the mother swirling in circles, playing with h
er daughter. I felt the cold chill pass and I slowly opened my eyes. Everyone was staring at me. I was staring at the woman, trying to retain the image of her as a living being, though she was a cold decaying corpse. She wasn’t even a shadow of the vibrant woman I had seen.
“Well? Impress me, boy!” The priest was expecting something. But I couldn’t tell him everything.
“She died protecting her daughter. She gave herself up so that you would stop looking for her child. Fat lot of good that did,” I remarked, disgusted. I had no idea who the woman was or what she had done to offend the Church. But somehow, she reminded me of my parents. They gave their lives to save me, to make sure I made it through. I survived, but at what cost, if their efforts were leading to this? What was I going to cost everyone around me by using this ability?
“Take your seat,” the priest said gruffly. James looked pleased. Jill looked concerned, her grip white on her robe. The other students just stared, both in admiration and in apprehension. The score had been set – one dead, one alive – it could be done, but it could be death as well. Fifty/fifty chance – the odds weren’t good.
I leaned back as the other students lined up for their turn to read the woman. The other students were not as gifted as Jill and I, but they wanted to prove their worth as much as we did. Seven more died in their attempts. Jill was now leaning into the opening of students near us, taking her turn looking down on the body. She closed her eyes and started writing. She wrote down the city and province where the woman had last seen her daughter. I hoped she was being vague. Jill understood how I felt, but also knew if she didn’t give them the information they would just beat it out of someone else. She didn’t like passing punishment.