Sundial

by C. F. Fruzzetti

“Where is Reid?” I asked Mr. Parks. I missed Reid’s shadow. I ran my hand across my cheek from where the stubble of his face had grazed mine. Despite two showers, he had not taken time to shave.

  “He is already doing his exercises. He is tired and feeling a little shaky. You scared him.”

  “But not you?” I asked. I saw Mr. Parks smile. He had his tracksuit jacket back on.

  “I know what it is to be a true survivor and so do you. You have a spark of will that cannot be extinguished. You let it burn low today because you were tired. It is always darkest before the dawn.”

  “You mean I had to go that low in order to jump start my empathy again?” I clarified.

  “Yes, it was buried deep. Dr. West told me you had it and that I had to bring it back. I thought Reid would do it the fastest while keeping you safe. Reid is angry with me because he thinks I put you in danger. But, like I said, you were not.”

  Mr. Parks looked at me and smiled again. As he did so, I was able to walk into his thoughts. He was thinking about Dr. West and my father. Dr. West was not bald and didn’t have a beard. My dad’s auburn hair was short and he wasn’t wearing glasses. I could see the laughter in his blue eyes. I had almost forgotten how he looked when he was relaxed and happy.

  The three of them were tipsy and singing. They were on a bustling street and dodging a rickshaw in an Asian city many years ago. Then Mr. Parks closed his third eye.

  “Very good, Whitney. You see why we wanted you to have it back? It is useful. You can do it without any physical contact, which is most important. It will not work on everyone. It is easiest on those of us who also have third eye capabilities whom you know well.”

  “You have known my father since before I was born?” I asked. My father had been a CIA agent before he took his desk job at CIA headquarters in Langley.

  “And your mother, too. Your mother, so beautiful with her long blonde hair and the same color hazel eyes as you. Sometimes I see her when I watch your eyes.” I thought about my mother and the intricately embroidered silk robe she always used to wear. Mr. Parks nodded as he skipped through my thoughts.

  “That was my wife’s robe. They were good friends. I gave it to your mother when my wife died.”

  “That’s one of my strongest memories of her. She would wear that robe while she made me breakfast,” I said quietly. I knew Mr. Parks did not want to talk further about his wife and I did not like talking about my mom.

  “Tomorrow, you practice again opening and closing the third eye. You must sense when someone knows you are in his or her thoughts and leave before they can be sure. Move like a ghost through their mind. Then you will learn to breathe the cinnabar shield. Helga, Reid, and I will try and break the shield. When it cannot be done, you are ready.” Mr. Parks got up and walked down the hall.

  I finished eating and watched Helga’s strong arms knead the dough. She had a rhythm to it and it was comforting. “Where did you learn to cook, Helga?” I asked. “You are such an excellent chef.”

  “In a concentration camp in Transnistria. I was a little younger than you when I was taken there.” I didn’t know what to say. Even though I had seen the serial number on her arm, I had expected her to say a fancy European culinary school. “My family traveled from town to town. People would come see my mother and I to have their palm read and fortunes told for small coins. Someone turned my family in for being Roma, or gypsy, as you might call it. It was not true, but no one listened. The next day, we were deported to hell on Earth: Transnistria.

  “I knew I had special gifts, and my mother instructed me to stay alive and to help the others above all else. I never saw her or the rest of my family after we got off the train. An officer pulled me out of line and he insisted I stay in his lodgings and learn to be his cook. Even for the general population, food in Transnistria was very scarce. The fact that I had access to it was a blessing. People would gather outside a slaughterhouse and wait for scraps of skin and bones to be thrown out and fight over the scraps like dogs. The living conditions, well, they were unimaginable.

  “The only good that was there were the acts of humanity that the prisoners would not allow to be stripped from them. Starving people shared their food with those who had nothing…” Helga had kneaded the bread into a pulp. I was afraid to get out of my seat. I looked down at my plate and could almost see my reflection. I had been hungry but I had never been starving. I couldn’t imagine it.

  “Whitney, I have seen the choices you make. You have a strong body so I know you have a strong mind. You do not need something newer, bigger, or better to fulfill you. You have internal fulfillment.” Helga walked toward me and picked up my hand.

  “You think too highly of me, Helga. I was considering swimming to Maryland earlier today,” I admitted with embarrassment. Helga had flipped over my hand and was studying it.

  “Yes, but you didn’t. Instead you challenged your mind to its full capacity. You are not waiting to be given a life. You are creating it with every choice you make. I had the choice to leave the camp with the military officer who abused me or to stay and wait for death. I had been using my gifts to help the people in the camp, so I knew I had to stay. I made the hard choice, but the right one. That is often the case.”

  “How were you using your gifts to help people?” I asked. I wondered what gifts she had but judging from the warmth of her hand and her interest in my palm I was guessing fortune telling was more than just a hobby.

  “I could know what barracks or ghettos would be called for extermination next. I would touch objects on his desk and be able to see the orders that he had written. I gave advance warning to those living there.”

  “But where could they go? There was no escape.” I began to think of the suffering and fear the people living in a concentration camp would endure. I could not even fully reconcile the idea.

  “No, but those who were sick with typhus or too old to survive the starvation would trade places with those younger and stronger. They sacrificed themselves so others could live. This system was not much, but it gave people a sense of hope. Never underestimate hope, Whitney. It is a powerful thread that keeps people alive.” Helga let go of my hand.

  “Your life way is strong and meaningful. Keep giving to others and you will always know you have more than enough. You take nothing for granted. This is good. A sense of entitlement is the root of gluttony, greed, and corruption. Once a life goes out of balance, it is hard to get it back.”

  I cleaned up the kitchen and then walked to the bow of the boat. I had to complete my meditation exercises to regenerate my chi. I inhaled and looked at the night sky.

  I saw the constellation Cassiopeia. It resembled a “W” with the open end facing northwest. According to Greek mythology Cassiopeia, the queen of Ethiopia, hangs with her head down to teach her a lesson in humility after she boasted that she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. It was directly overhead and slightly to the east. Cassiopeia always rose near my birthday.

  I wondered if my dad was all right. Monday would be my first birthday without him but with everything that had happened, my birthday seemed trivial now. I thought about all those in the concentration camps who didn’t get birthdays.

  I launched into my breathing exercises and then worked through the rest of my chi meditation. By the time I was done, Mr. Parks and Helga had gone into the cabin. Reid was still on the fly deck, waiting. I climbed up the ladder to him. His arms opened wide and I walked into his embrace.

  “Tired?” he asked. I drank in the smell of cedar that lingered on the sweatshirt he was wearing. He was warm and subdued. “We have the master suite as long as we leave the door open. I explained to Mr. Parks and Helga I thought you would sleep best with me. You know, with my magnetized blood and all.” Reid must have seen his chart through my subconscious at some point earlier. I cringed.

  “I don’t even want to know all that you saw in my mind today. It’s too humiliating for me to contemplate,” I mumbled into his chest. He tightened
his hold on me as the boat rocked slowly on the water. He moved his hand to the top of my hair and took the clip out. My hair fell loose to the middle of my back.

  “I disagree. It’s a pretty impressive warehouse of memories in that head of yours. You have been through a lot but you never show it. I think I love you even more than I did before.”

  “Are you just trying to get me to sleep with you?” I teased. I looked up at him and saw his eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

  “Didn’t I already broker that deal with our chaperones…?” Reid answered with a grin. “But come to think of it, I am exceedingly tired.”

  “Me too. What a day. I’m ready to go right to sleep,” I said. I faked a yawn and stretched.

  “Not if I can help it,” Reid whispered in my ear. I laughed, knowing Mr. Parks would not rest until we were both asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen: Undeterred

  The perpetual assaults were tiring. It was similar to trying to detect the slight extra weight of a tissue in your pocket. You would not know it was there unless you were looking for it.

  I rapidly figured out I had to learn the weight of my own mind in order to perceive anything extra. After I had mastered myself, it made it harder for Reid and Mr. Parks to sneak inside.

  I couldn’t believe I had not realized Reid was connecting to my mind sooner. It made me blush to think about all the times he had bumped into me. No wonder it made such an impact; he was gleaning all kinds of information about me. I couldn’t speculate on what he had learned. It was less embarrassing that way.

  Mr. Parks taught both of us how to move more elegantly through the mind space. He must have known I had been wondering about his wife, and my mother’s friend, Chen. Whenever I entered his mind, all his memories and emotions were of her. He would let me catch blurbs of them and then fade them to black.

  She was an exquisite woman and her laugh was like wind chimes. In his mind, she was young and spirited. It was not hard to see why she captivated him.

  By late Sunday afternoon, Mr. Parks decided to break for the day. His main concern was that I could close the third eye before anyone could enter my mind. Unfailing accuracy was my primary means of defense for the Clarion exposure at the funeral. I could see that he was hoping the level of decorum required for a funeral in the Washington Cathedral would prevent more aggressive attacks. For that, I would need what he called the cinnabar shield.

  The cinnabar shield was a form of invisible protection that was created by fusing all the body’s energy centers. Creating the shield required a high degree of concentration because it changes internal energy into an external shield simply by breathing. The shield is generated through exhaling.

  Reid could already produce a cinnabar shield. That knowledge made me work harder on mastering my own. Until I could produce a shield in one exhale, I was required to allow Reid to move in front of me. I did not like that for two reasons: first, it put Reid in danger and second, it let him boss me around.

  Reid had no issue with it. He relished teasing me about it since I had no recourse. Mr. Parks and Helga seemed amused when he would slide in front of me when a seagull flew by or wrap me up in a hug from a passing boat. It was easy for them to laugh but every time he did it, it reminded me this was not a joke. I wanted to be able to stand on my own and this drove me to practice even harder than if Mr. Parks had given me exercises. I considered that this might have been their objective, but it was irrelevant. I had to learn it and the sooner the better.

  I saw the candle on the Pop Tart and I smiled. That was no small feat. I was not a morning person. It was my birthday and apparently my other gift was that I got to sleep past six a.m. I grabbed the Pop Tart off the bedside table and set the candle down. The door to the bedroom was closed for a change and I was glad to have a moment to myself before I got back to work.

  The white crumbs of the Pop Tart were visible on the navy comforter. I shook them off and grabbed my sweatshirt. I wanted a hot shower and then I would be done indulging myself for the day.

  Back from my shower, I found Reid waiting for me in the master suite. He was dressed in jeans and an oxford shirt. He smiled warmly at me. I noticed he had shaved. “Happy birthday,” he said with a spark in his eye. He opened his arms and I walked into them. He smelled like evergreen and clove spice.

  “Thanks,” I said. Only a few days ago, I had been looking forward to getting my license today. Now I was focused on getting my shield forged to perfection in the next twenty-four hours so people could not ransack my mind.

  “Can I give you your present now?” Reid asked. This caught me by surprise. I knew he wasn’t prepared to come on the boat for four days. Helga had brought his bag.

  “Sure,” I said. I noticed he had not let go of me. Oh brother, I thought. I hoped it wasn’t a cheesy kiss. I thought for certain that was what he was going to do when he lightly caught the tip of my chin with his finger and tilted my head up toward his face.

  “I told you the other night that being in your mind made me love you more but I didn’t tell you why. If I hadn’t been able to see all those emotions, I know I would have ruined your birthday by getting you something I thought I should. Something the salesclerk at Macy’s would have suggested—like a necklace or perfume. But in your mind, I saw that what made you truly happy were the moments I did small things to make your life better. At first, I almost felt insulted that bringing you pretzels beat out sending you flowers. In fact, sending you flowers wasn’t even in there.

  “So, I have spent countless hours trying to use what I know about you in order to give you the best possible gift on your birthday. I think I have it. It is indestructible. It is unforgettable. What I have to give you are moments because moments are what will last a lifetime. In those moments, I want you to have happy memories, Whitney. Remembrance transcends time; I want to be with you so I can be remembered by you.”

  Impressive, I thought. Reid had bypassed all the clichés that I detested as meaningless. I did not like telling people what I wanted. I hated the confirmation that the person did not know me or did not want to make an effort. Reid had done the opposite. He proved he knew me and knew what I wanted from life. I wanted a life without regret and to savor all the little moments of genuine caring. A life built on love.

  “Reid, we need to go,” Helga called from the galley. The idea of Reid moving away from me at that second was like ripping my heart out. I opened my mouth to protest but Reid interrupted my objection by answering Helga.

  “OK,” he called over my head. Then he said to me, “I’ll be back as soon as school is out. It would look too noticeable if we were both missing and we don’t know if there is an informer at school. You, obviously, will be getting your driver’s license today and going out to a birthday lunch with your dad. At least, that is what I will be telling everyone who will listen.”

  “Reid,” I said, delaying him a moment. “That was the best gift I could imagine. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. But really, the words I said are not the gift. The gift is my commitment to deliver the memories. Starting now,” he said as he kissed me. I don’t know how long Helga was waiting at the door. He didn’t stop until she cleared her throat.

  “Reid, you can’t be late for school. This has to go like clockwork. We are about to come up to the dock.” Helga shooed him out of the room. “Stay here, Whitney. Just to be safe. We don’t want to blow the cover now. It has been working so well.”

  I closed the door and got dressed. My heart felt like it was touching the sky. All I wanted was to repeat the feeling of closeness I had to Reid a moment ago. It was a deeply personal bliss—for the first time in a long time I did not feel alone. I felt understood and valued.

  I tried to keep Reid’s unsettling hint of an informer in our high school from creeping into my mind. At least for a few minutes. My intuition would not allow the possible threat to remain unnoticed.

  Mr. Parks found me in the galley and set down a few recent copies of The Wash
ington Post on the table. “Today we get your shield working as instant reflex. With practice, it becomes faster. You must be prepared. First, do your exercises. I am waiting for you on the lower deck.”

  “Reid said there might be an informer in our high school. What is that about?” I asked Mr. Parks before he left. He tensed ever so slightly as he walked but kept going.

  “There might be an informer everywhere. You might as well get used to that, Whitney. You are no longer able to blindly trust anyone anymore.” It was an odd way of answering. I pictured the black blindfolds Mr. Parks wanted Reid and me to wear while we were practicing in my head. Was that what he was talking about? That he had given Reid and me the opportunity to blindly trust each other knowing it would be an experience that could rarely be repeated? I felt the familiar chills on my skin.

  “Yes, Whitney. Happy birthday,” he answered. I cursed. I did not feel him in my thoughts. I had become too distracted. “Of all the passions, love is the strongest. It attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses. Remember this tomorrow. You cannot be distracted.” As usual, it was a lesson well taught.

  Without Helga and Reid on the boat, Mr. Parks and I were engrossed in our work. My shield became effective and quick but producing it in one exhale was a hard goal to attain. There was more work to do but eventually, Mr. Parks conceded it was a vast improvement.

  Finally, my automatic internal alarm clock told me it was time for school to end, and Mr. Parks turned the boat around. It took us a little while to motor home. Helga was already waiting on the floating dock. She had a clothing bag over her arm and Reid walked up with a cooler and a duffel bag slung across his chest. My heart was pounding to see Reid again. As we approached the dock, I moved farther into the cabin.

  Helga immediately took charge when she got on board. She directed Reid to put food into the refrigerator, asked Mr. Parks if he had bothered to let us stop for lunch, and clucked with disgust as he questioned if it was already lunchtime. Then she called me to take the clothing bag from her and take it back to the master suite. She followed me.