Immortal

by Pati Nagle

  Caeran and Madera exchanged a few murmured words behind me. I opened the small door within the zaguan and stepped out onto the portal. Blinked at the bright sunlight bouncing up from the wooden floor. I wanted my shades, but they were in the car.

  The door closed behind me. Caeran joined me, smiled briefly, and said, “We should go.”

  I glanced back at Madera’s hacienda. Nothing super-extraordinary from this direction, just a big old sprawling adobe house. Full of secrets.

  I headed to the car and put my pack in the back seat. Caeran did the same, and carefully set the pears in the footwell behind his seat. The car was warm from the morning sun, so I rolled down my window and turned on the fan.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  A frown fleeted across Caeran’s face. “Let’s wait a while.”

  “OK.”

  I was willing to humor him for now. I started the car and headed out the long, rutted driveway.

  The morning was gorgeous. Trees that I hadn’t noticed on our arrival flanked the driveway at intervals, still wearing autumn colors, and the sky was an incredible shade of blue. The air was cool and deliciously clean, with just a hint of wood smoke. It would be depressing to go back to breathing city muck.

  I drove through Guadalupita and all the way to Mora without talking. Caeran seemed content with the silence. I pulled over at the raspberry place.

  “I’m going to get a bottle of water. Want anything?”

  He shook his head. I went in the store, bought water and a jar of raspberry jam, and came out to find the car empty.

  Panic hit me as I thought Caeran had ditched me, then I saw him wandering in a garden beyond an adobe wall. I remembered the garden from past visits—it was gorgeous in summer, a riot of color—though now most of the flowers were done for the year. I went through the gate and joined Caeran by a bed of rosemary. He was staring down at it, frowning slightly.

  “You OK?”

  “Yes. No.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing that can be fixed. Are we leaving?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Unless you want to talk.”

  His frown deepened and he stood absolutely still for a moment, then turned and headed back to the car. I followed him, put my jam in the back seat and got in the driver’s seat, where I paused to open my water and take a swig.

  “So what happened last night? Did I piss Mirali off?”

  “No. It was a defensive reaction.”

  “That’s some defense! What is she, a black belt?”

  Caeran shook his head, looking unhappy. “She was confused. She should not have been up.”

  I took another swig of water. “I was looking for you.”

  He closed his eyes. “I know.”

  “You know? How do you know? Were you watching me?”

  His brow creased, but he didn’t answer. It made me angry.

  “More mind-reading?”

  “Len—”

  “Well, what? All of you are acting like I’m some kind of leper or something. I thought we had—reached an understanding—”

  “Len, you are a wonderful, wonderful girl, and I—can’t. I can’t be with you.”

  My gut tried to sink through the floor, and my throat went dry. I swallowed.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t go into the reasons.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, all right? And I would, so it is better that we just … don’t.”

  I stared at him. He looked miserable, and he was making me feel miserable. There had to be some way to get him to trust me.

  “I don’t believe you would hurt me.”

  He gave a pained laugh. “Oh, I would. Inevitably.”

  “No,” I said softly. “No, you wouldn’t. I’m not a mind-reader, but I know that much.”

  “I would not mean to,” he whispered, “but it would happen.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “It sounds crazy, yes.”

  “How could you hurt me if you don’t want to?”

  “By being who I am.”

  I took a deep breath. “OK. Who are you?”

  He looked at me and shook his head. His eyes were haunted by sadness.

  “Is it your family? Your friends—whatever they are? I know they don’t like me.”

  “They do like you, Len. But they also see you as … a risk.”

  “Because you’re not citizens?”

  He looked out the windshield. It had been a guess, and his silence seemed to confirm it.

  “I would never rat on you, Caeran. I don’t care if you’re here illegally—”

  “That is not the issue.”

  “Then what is?”

  “I … am not free to explain. We are too different, Len. That is all I can say.”

  Deeply frustrated, I started the car and lurched onto the highway. Drove too fast to the junction, by which time I had calmed down enough to know I shouldn’t commit vehicular murder-suicide. Caeran sat in tight-lipped silence, and I didn’t know how to restart the conversation without returning to the argument.

  I drove toward Las Vegas, holding to the speed limit, unable to enjoy the scenery. There was a knot in my stomach that seemed to get bigger by the mile. I couldn’t accept that Caeran wanted to walk away. I was pretty sure he didn’t want to, but that he felt obliged to, and that it was his friends who were making him do it.

  I thought of our embrace beneath the stars and my throat went hollow. Tried to think about something else, but I was too worked up and to my dismay I felt my eyes begin to burn with tears.

  Crying would just exasperate Caeran. Blinking hard, I turned on the music to cover my erratic breathing and tilted my head toward my window. Tears spilled down my left cheek and dripped onto my arm. I hoped Caeran wouldn’t notice. At first I thought he hadn’t, but after a couple more miles he spoke.

  “Stop the car.”

  I sniffed, trying to quit crying, and kept driving. Caeran punched the stereo power button, killing the music.

  “Len, please stop the car.”

  I gave up and pulled over, and promptly lost it. Couldn’t control myself any more; I sat there sobbing, wiping at my running nose. Totally unattractive.

  Caeran reached over and turned off the ignition. He handed me a handkerchief—a real, cloth handkerchief, neatly folded—and waited patiently until I had pretty much stopped blubbering.

  “I am sorry to have made you unhappy,” he said. “I should not have let things go as far as they did.”

  I couldn’t answer that one, so I just wiped my nose. Caeran kept talking, his gentle voice soothing, calming me.

  “I know it seems unfair, but this small disappointment is much better than the hurt you would suffer later, believe me. I wish I had not caused you any pain at all. Indeed, I did not mean to. I am most grateful to you, Len. You have helped me and my kin more than you can ever know. You have probably saved Mirali’s life.”

  That surprised me into a laugh. “I just gave you a ride. If someone saved her life it was Madera.”

  “But I would not have found Madera without your help.”

  I looked at him, remembering the first time I saw him coming up to my counter in the library, his incredible beauty and the anxious hope in his eyes. Had that only been three days ago?

  Three days, in which time I’d made a complete fool of myself over a man who was still, essentially, a stranger. Way to go, Len.

  I sniffed and gave my eyes a final swipe with the soggy handkerchief. They were sore, probably red. I allowed myself one sigh, then started the car again and continued south.

  We didn’t talk until Las Vegas, where I stopped at the same gas station for a bathroom break. Didn’t need gas yet, so I parked in front of the store, and Caeran and I both went in. I took the time to wash my face and give my hair a wet finger comb job, trying to make myself slightly more presentable. Couldn’t do much about the red eyes, th
ough I pressed a damp paper towel to them for a minute and they looked less puffy.

  I decided to indulge in a junk food frenzy. If I was going to wallow, I might as well go whole hog.

  When I came out, Caeran was paying for a bottle of water, a chug of my favorite soda, a bag of chips and a bar of dark chocolate. He put everything but the water in my hands.

  “How did you do that?” I demanded.

  He looked startled, then guilty. He didn’t answer as we went back to the car.

  I opened the soda and took a swig, cold bubbles biting my throat delightfully. I sighed. “You are a mind-reader.”

  Caeran looked away, buckling his seat belt. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “Bull.” I shook the chips, rattling them in their bag. “This is exactly what I was planning to buy for myself.”

  A corner of his mouth twisted up in a smile. “Like I said, you think pretty loud.”

  “Oh, man.”

  I tore open the bag and shoved a handful of chips into my mouth. Put the chocolate aside for later, and started the car.

  I wanted to talk, but couldn’t figure out what to talk about. It was either trivialities or the danger zone, and if I kept resurrecting the latter it would be I who was hurting Caeran. He’d apologized so sweetly, I couldn’t keep pestering him.

  We stopped for gas in Santa Fe. Caeran insisted on paying. I asked if he wanted lunch, but he said he wasn’t hungry and I was still stoked with junk food, so we headed on to Albuquerque.

  The knot in my stomach came back. The closer we got to the city, the bigger it got. I didn’t want to think about what was coming, so I turned the music back on and sang along, not caring what Caeran thought about my caterwauling.

  The disc ended as we were approaching the Alameda exit. I swallowed.

  “So. Back to the bosque?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded and took the exit and the slow way, wanting to delay, wanting a few more minutes to soak up everything I could remember about him. My damn eyes started watering again. I blinked to keep it back, determined not to subject Caeran to another scene.

  I turned onto Rio Grande, cruising past the big homes. Cottonwoods dropped golden leaves on the car.

  “You guys really shouldn’t be camping in the bosque.”

  “It will not be for long.”

  “Gonna find a house?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “We could stop and pick up a real estate guide—they’re free—”

  “Not here.”

  “What?” My brain didn’t want to register what he was saying.

  “Albuquerque is too big. Too many people. We need a quiet place.”

  So he was really leaving, as in inaccessible, as in no possibility of changing his mind. The knot in my gut swelled.

  Nothing more to say. I drove to the Nature Center and stopped by the bike access path where I’d picked him and the others up the morning before. Turned off the engine and got out, helplessly watching Caeran get his pack from the back seat.

  “Want some of the pears? They’ll go bad before I can eat them all.”

  He looked at me, eyes more golden than green now, like the leaves. My heart flipped over at his smile.

  “All right. Thank you.”

  I picked up the basket and offered it to him. He chose six pears and slipped them into his pack.

  “Take more.”

  “This is enough.”

  I put the basket on the seat. He stood gazing at me, pack slung over his shoulder. I couldn’t stand it. I threw myself at him, hugging him tight, breathing in the smell of him. After a moment his arms closed around me.

  “Caeran—”

  “Shh.”

  “I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

  He gently extracted himself from my embrace and kissed my forehead. “No.”

  “Well,” I said shakily, trying to smile, “at least I had this much. I’m really—glad I got to know you.”

  He raised a hand to touch my cheek. “Be safe.”

  With a faint smile, he stepped back, then turned and walked down the path beneath arching cottonwoods. I watched him all the way, tears running down my face. He never looked back.

  When he’d turned the corner out of sight I still saw him in my mind: crossing the bridge over the ditch, heading toward the bosque, turning south. I stood there for a long time.

  = 5 =

  A car coming out of the parking lot jolted me back to reality. I hurried around to the Saturn’s driver’s seat and got in.

  Driving back to campus, I felt numb. A tightness started in my temples, growing to a full-blown headache by the time I reached my dorm. I parked and cleared out the car.

  As I was picking up the empty junk food wrappers I came across Caeran’s crumpled handkerchief. I picked it up, thinking about washing it and then taking it for a walk in the bosque.

  No. Caeran wouldn’t want me to do that. He wanted to be left alone.

  A souvenir, then. I stuffed it in my pocket.

  When I got to my room, I was too zonked to do anything but take some aspirin and collapse. I lay on my bed, thinking of Caeran until I fell asleep. Woke up in darkness, confused.

  The clock said 6:30. My head still hurt, though not as bad. I drank a glass of water and felt slightly better.

  Food was probably a good idea, though I didn’t feel hungry. There was still a knot in my stomach. I looked at the basket of pears sitting on my desk.

  Pears for dinner, and I really hadn’t had lunch. It wouldn’t cut it. I needed some protein, so I’d have to go out.

  Easiest choices were the Student Union Building or the Taco Bell on the corner. I didn’t care what I ate, so I opted for the SUB, thinking it might do me good to bump elbows with some other students. I put my wallet and other necessities into a fanny pack, grabbed my coat, and headed out.

  Dark was falling early these days. Leaves blew around the broad concrete sidewalks, catching in the corners of the steps and piling up against planters and hedges, their dry smell reminding me of Halloween. I huddled in my coat and hurried to the SUB.

  Light, music, and jabbering voices washed over me as I entered the building. The smell of coffee evoked a growl from my gut, so I hit the espresso stand first. The first swallow of latté was ambrosia.

  I debated going through the cafeteria line or just grabbing a slice of pizza. The cafeteria would be healthier—I could get a salad, some meat.

  I went for the pizza, and ordered a side salad to assuage my conscience. I figured I was still entitled to wallow for a while. Twenty-four hours at least. Then I’d straighten up.

  Caeran. My chest tightened as I remembered his touch. His farewell. I wasn’t hungry any more, but I tried to eat anyway.

  I sat at a café table in the hallway outside the pizza place and watched the world go by. Groups of friends grabbing a bite before the seven-thirty movie. Maybe I should watch the movie—it would distract me—but I just couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for it.

  What I wanted most was to be with Caeran, which I couldn’t have, so what I wanted next most was to be alone. Sitting here with happy people all around wasn’t going to make me happy. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking when I decided to come to the SUB.

  I finished my pizza and ate a few bites of salad, then gave up on it, anxious to get back to my room to be alone in my misery. As I was getting up to dispose of my trash, I saw a man walking toward me and nearly gasped.

  Tall, slim. His hair was ice white but he looked young—my age—so maybe it was a bleach job. He wore a battered leather jacket, a t-shirt for some heavy metal band, and jeans. Perfectly reasonable student attire, but he wasn’t a student. I was sure of it.

  The lines of his face, his posture, his stride, all rang very familiar. They reminded me of Caeran and his family.

  I stood staring like an idiot. The stranger’s gaze shifted to me and he slowed.

  All at once I knew he wasn’t like Caeran. He was dangerous.
r />   A stab of fear shot through me and I looked away, blinking as I shuffled to the trash can, watching the stranger from the corner of my eye. My heart was pounding.

  I could feel his gaze boring into me. I moved toward the nearest exit, silently hoping he’d keep going the other way.

  “Len! Hey, are you going to the movie?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin, but I was so glad to hear Amanda’s voice I didn’t care. She was coming in the doors with Don, a guy she’d dated a few times and whose last name I couldn’t remember. He was a swimmer.

  “Hey, guys!” I said, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I was kinda thinking about it.”

  The white-haired guy was past. I turned sideways a little so I could watch him down the hall, heart still hammering. I wondered if he could read minds.

  Movie, I’m going to the movie. What movie was it anyway?

  “You want to sit with us?” Amanda asked.

  She was smiling, just friendly. Don’s smile lacked enthusiasm, and I figured he didn’t really want me along.

  “Um, maybe,” I said.

  “Let’s go, then. I want to get seats up front.”

  I followed them to the ballroom where the free movies were shown. All the way I kept watching for the white-haired guy, but I didn’t see him again.

  The movie was The Wicker Man, the original one with Christopher Lee. I’d seen it and liked it, but I’d had enough creepy-weird in real life lately that I wasn’t hot to see it again. I also didn’t want to be trapped in the ballroom, though that was probably one of the safer places I could be.

  I showed my I.D. and lagged behind Amanda and Don going in. The crowd made me uncomfortable. More than ever I wanted to escape back to my dorm room.

  I spied two seats together in the third row, touched Amanda’s arm and pointed. “You two grab those.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll find a spot. I might have to leave early anyway—didn’t sleep well last night and I’m kind of tired.”

  Don smiled, happier. Amanda looked disappointed.

  “Well, OK. You want to get dessert, after?”

  “If I’m still here. If not, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “OK, hon.” She gave me a quick hug and went off with Don, leaving me tingling. Still a little zotzed with adrenaline, I guessed.