Flight of Life (Essence Series #1)

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Flight of Life (Essence Series #1) Page 2

by E. L. Todd


  Calloway’s uncle took a drink from his water and returned it to the table. “How are the applications coming along, boys?” He ate his dinner while he waited for them speak.

  Both boys shifted their weights in their seats, uncomfortable by the question. Neither one of them had put any effort into their college applications, but not because they weren’t interested—they just hadn’t found the time. Calloway suspected he wouldn’t get into a university anyway—his grades just weren’t good enough. Unless he had a flawless score on the SAT, he would be forced to attend a junior college, if they would even accept him. Breccan’s situation was no different than Calloway’s. They both didn’t have bright futures.

  “So, can we assume you haven’t finished them?” Aunt Grace said.

  Breccan shook his head and Calloway just looked down at his plate, avoiding her gaze. He knew how important it was to his aunt to continue their education. She wanted a better life for both of them. The guilt weighed on him and he promised himself he would start right away.

  “You know how important this is,” Uncle Scott said. “It better be done.”

  Breccan and Calloway both nodded.

  Another issue with college applications was the fee to apply for admission, plus the cost of the SAT. Calloway couldn’t take any money from his aunt and uncle. They would budget their money by cutting back on groceries and electricity and he couldn’t stand the thought. He decided he would get a part time job working at a grocery store or a sandwich shop so he can pay for his own application. Calloway decided he would pay for his cousin’s as well, anything to help out his family.

  Calloway wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his plate away. “Thank you for dinner, Aunt Grace,” he said as he stood up.

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled.

  Calloway walked to the sink and started washing his dish. He came back to his aunt and grabbed her half eaten plate and returned it to the sink, cleaning hers as well.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Calloway nodded and put the rinsed dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned the other plates in the sink, helping out his aunt in whatever way he could. They took him into their home and raised him like he was their own son. This was the least he could do.

  Breccan got up next and placed his dish on the counter, expecting Calloway to wash it. He walked out of the kitchen but his father stopped him with his words.

  “Aren’t you going to thank your mother for dinner?” he asked.

  “Thanks,” Breccan said quickly. He left and closed the door behind him.

  Calloway heard his Aunt Grace sigh deeply as she remained at the table. Uncle Scott rubbed her arm then patted hand gently. He didn’t mean to make his cousin look worse by being respectful and polite, but he couldn’t treat her differently. He wished his cousin would drop his attitude. His aunt rose from the table and placed Uncle Scott’s dish in the sink.

  “I appreciate your help, Calloway.” Aunt Grace smiled. “But you don’t need to do that.” She rubbed her nephew’s back. “Go upstairs and do your homework.” Calloway nodded then turned away.

  “Good night.” He walked through the door and closed it behind him then grabbed his backpack from the floor before he advanced to the room he shared with his cousin upstairs.

  Breccan was sitting on his bed, waiting for his cousin to finish dinner and join him. When Calloway came inside and shut the door, Breccan stood up and stepped in front of him. “Did you get it?” he whispered.

  Calloway opened his backpack and retrieved the dusty book from the bottom. “It wasn’t easy,” he said.

  Breccan held the book in his hands and stared at it for a moment. Finally, he opened the pages and leafed through the material with a confused expression. “I can’t read it.”

  “I know.” Calloway sighed. “I was worried this would happen.”

  Breccan sighed. “You know what that means.”

  “Yes,” Calloway said. “We’re going to have to talk to Easton.”

  “That girl is annoying,” he said.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Calloway argued.

  Breccan continued to flip through the book before he finally put it down and shoved it under the bed, hidden from view. “How’d it go?”

  Calloway shook his head. “I was almost taken.”

  Breccan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? You saw one?”

  “I was chased by one all across the library—the place is a mess. He even grabbed me by the arm but I managed to escape after I kicked him in the stomach.”

  Breccan was quiet for a moment. “What are they like?”

  “Animal-like, creepy, disturbing—every bad thing you can think of.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “No,” Calloway said as she shook his head. “And I wouldn’t want to anyway. I was already scared as it was.”

  “You could’ve been killed,” Breccan said. “And your essence would have been stolen. You’re lucky you managed to escape.”

  “I was very lucky,” Calloway said. “If the library wasn’t clustered with bookcases and tables, along with it being pitch black, I wouldn’t have survived.”

  Breccan nodded. “Did it say anything?”

  Calloway thought for a moment. “He said something like, ‘I can see the light in the dark and the light in shadow.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Calloway sighed. “But I know the Hara-Kir can’t see well in the dark because it had a hard time catching me. I have no idea what he meant.”

  “Did he follow you outside the building?”

  “Yes,” Calloway answered. “I rode my bike into a neighborhood and eventually lost them.”

  “There were two? Do you think they followed you?” Breccan asked fearfully.

  “No. I made sure of that,” he said. “I would never lead them to my family.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Breccan whispered.

  Both of the boys changed their clothes and crawled into their beds. Calloway’s bed was on the opposite side of the room, and the ends of the twin-sized beds faced each other. Calloway stared at the ceiling in the darkness as he listened to the thoughts running through his head. Even though he was tired, he couldn’t sleep, and now he suspected he would never find rest again—ever.

  Sandals in Winter

  The boys piled into the beat-up Volvo sitting in the driveway as Grace got into the driver’s seat. When she started the car, the engine turned over many times before it finally ran, and the car shook violently for a moment before it stopped. There was no heater so Breccan had to wipe away the frost covering the windows with a warm rag. Aunt Grace pulled out of the driveway at a slow speed and the sound of the over-worked engine was loud in their ears. She took them to school every morning, but the experience wasn’t much better than riding their bikes in the winter morning air. Every morning, Breccan made his mother drop them off at the corner so he wouldn’t be seen in the old car. Calloway didn’t care what kind of car his aunt drove but Breccan was blatantly embarrassed about it.

  When she pulled up to the curb, the car convulsed violently then stopped just as suddenly. Most of the seatbelts in the car didn’t work so they pulled the straps over their chests whenever a cop drove by. Only two radio stations worked so they had to choose between classic country and mariachi music. They usually left it off.

  Calloway climbed out of the seat behind Breccan then adjusted his backpack. Breccan slammed the door twice because it wouldn’t stick to the frame. Aunt Grace leaned over and rolled down the window manually. “Tell me when you want me to pick you up,” she said with a smile. “Have a good day.” She drove away, and the loud engine could be heard even when she reached the end of the street.

  “Let’s go,” Breccan said as he tightened his backpack on his shoulders. Calloway walked alongside him as they headed to the campus down the street. They were both wearing the only warm jackets they owned, and it was enough to keep them warm.

 
When they got to the campus they went into their separate classrooms. Calloway had English first thing in the morning, and when he walked inside his gaze immediately turned to Beatrice, a girl who sat in the third row. Calloway looked away and took his seat at the back of the class, trying not to stare at the blonde hair that always caught his eye. Beatrice was whispering with her girlfriends and a quiet laugh escaped her lips every few seconds. The sound made his shiver spine but he forced himself not to think about her. He had to concentrate on school.

  The teacher began lecturing about the Shakespeare play, Hamlet, which they had been reading the past week. Mr. Avey was calling on students and asking for the significance of the various prose of the play. Calloway wasn’t paying attention. He kept thinking about his run-in with the Hara-Kir from the evening before. It was a close call, one that almost cost him more than his life. He wanted to know the contents of the book he’d stolen from the Grandiose Historian Library but there was no way for him to decipher it—he needed a professional. Calloway could return to the library and search for a decoder—if such a thing even existed—but he couldn’t risk his essence again.

  “Calloway,” Mr. Avey said to him. “And to thine own self be true. What do you think Polonius meant?”

  Calloway dropped his gaze from the window and looked at his teacher, who was watching him while he held the play in his hand, waiting for him to speak. It was obvious that Calloway wasn’t paying attention and the teacher realized that as well. Calloway had read Hamlet before but it was a while ago. When they read it together in class he wasn’t paying attention because he was pondering his plan to get the sacred book from the Grandiose Historian Library.

  “Polonius was giving advice to his son,” he said as he sat up in his chair. “That you need to be true to yourself and to others around you before you find what your best interests really are; where you truly belong and what you’re best suited for.”

  Mr. Avey flashed him a look of surprise. He wasn’t expecting that response. “Very good.” He turned to another student and called on him, asking another question. Calloway glanced to Beatrice and saw her looking at him. Quickly, he turned his gaze away and stared at the front of the classroom. Her family was rich and she was beautiful, popular, and perfect. Calloway wasn’t stupid; she would never be interested in him. He only owned one jacket and two sweaters and he always brought his lunch to school because he couldn’t afford to buy food. He was a loner. Breccan was his only friend in the school. It wasn’t because he wasn’t nice or friendly, but he chose to isolate himself, finding solitude more comforting than the disappointment of people. Calloway already knew what the other students thought of him; a poor kid that had no parents.

  Calloway went to his other classes but didn’t pay attention to what was being taught. His mind returned to the adventure from the night before. He hated being distracted from the real world with unknown beings and events, but at the same time, he needed a distraction from the dullness of reality. What was better? Living a life with a purpose, albeit a dangerous one, or having an existence that was so meaningless you wished it was over?

  The bell rang for lunch and Calloway walked to the library on the other side of campus, knowing he had to complete his school applications and apply for a part-time job. They didn’t have a computer at home so Calloway had to utilize the resources at school. Breccan spotted him walking toward the building and advanced to his side.

  “Why are you going to the library?” Breccan asked.

  “We have to work on applications.” Calloway said. “Remember?”

  “Why do you suck up to my parents so much?” he asked. “They aren’t going to throw you out if you make them angry.”

  “It’s important to them and I think we should do it,” he said. “What could hurt?”

  Breccan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “At least I’ll have something positive to say when my mom interrogates me.”

  “She’s just trying to talk to you.”

  “Well, she should stop,” he snapped. “She can be so annoying.”

  “You’re lucky you have someone to care for you until the point it’s annoying,” Calloway said as he opened the door.

  Breccan didn’t respond to his comment. They never spoke about Calloway’s dead parents and his status as an orphan. Calloway walked to a computer and sat down. Breccan sat next to him and opened his sack lunch from his bag; a salami and cheese sandwich. He ate it while Calloway searched the internet for admissions information.

  The librarian looked over at the two boys and spotted Breccan eating. “There is no eating in the library,” she yelled across the room. She stood behind the book return counter. “Finish it outside or put it away,” she said harshly. Her hands were on her hips and her large nose made her look like a sinister witch. All she needed was a hat.

  Breccan rolled his eyes and put his lunch back into his backpack. When she wasn’t watching, he opened a bag of chips and ate it from his backpack, hidden from her view.

  “You don’t have to stay here because of me,” Calloway said as he looked up a local college that was affordable.

  “Where else am I going to go?” he said as he ate another chip. “So, what college do you want to go to?”

  “There’s a state school about an hour away from here,” Calloway said as he looked at the screen. “We might be able to get in if we get a good score on the SAT. Also, there’s Fresno University.”

  “Well, that’s never going to happen,” he said.

  “It’s not that hard,” Calloway said. “We can do it.”

  “You’re a genius,” he spat. “Yes, you can do it.”

  “Well, my GPA says otherwise.”

  “That’s because you don’t try.”

  Calloway started researching part time jobs in the area. Breccan closed his backpack when he saw the librarian walk over. He wiped his lips quickly then stared at the screen like he was reading it. The librarian watched at him for a moment before she walked away. She had thick glasses that made her look like an insect, and her floral skirt looked like it was from an antique store. She walked away and carried a stack of books to the history section down the middle aisle. The library was large and antique looking, with dark-colored wooden chairs and tables that matched the bookcases in the room. There were lamps at every table to keep the room well lit since the windows to the library were tinted. Breccan wasn’t sure why their high school had such a magnificent library. No one used it. He saw Calloway read a job application for a sandwich shop.

  “Why are you looking for a job?” Breccan asked

  “I need money.”

  “My parents will pay for the admissions stuff.”

  “I don’t want them to.”

  “Why?” he asked. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “They barely make it by as it is,” Calloway said. “Plus, they support another kid that they never expected to have. I can’t let them spend anything extra on me.”

  “It’s their fault,” Breccan snapped. “If mom got a job, we wouldn’t be so poor.”

  “You’re missing the point.” Calloway sighed. “And I need a job anyway—we’re graduating soon.”

  “Or you could just enjoy this while it lasts.”

  “No,” Calloway said.

  The library door opened and a girl walked inside. She was wearing pink pants and a white top, and she strode across the room with a perfect posture. Her golden earrings reflected the light of the laps and made her appearance noticeable. The girl had her gaze focused straight ahead, indifferent to the presence of any other person in the world. She had brown hair that reached her shoulders and she wore sandals even though it was winter. She walked by the two boys without looking at them before she took a seat at a table.

  Breccan looked over at her. “Easton just sat down.”

  Calloway didn’t look away from his computer. “She’s here?”

  “Yes.”

  Calloway logged out of the computer and grabbed his backpack from the
floor. They both walked over to her table and sat across from her. She was chewing a piece of gum while she started at the webpage on her phone; it was the Google search engine. She stared at it blankly like she was reading something. Breccan glanced at Calloway, and Calloway met his look. They were both thinking the same thing; Easton was different.

  “Hey,” Calloway said.

  “Hi,” she said without looking away from her phone.

  “Are we too ugly to look at?” Breccan asked her. “Or do you prefer artificial intelligence over real people?”

  “Yes,” she said

  “Yes to what?” Breccan asked.

  “I prefer computers to people—they can’t hurt you.”

  “You are so weird,” Breccan blurted.

  “And that is why I prefer the company of computers.”

  Calloway glared at Breccan before he looked at Easton. “I was hoping we could talk in private about something sensitive.”

  “Like what?” she said.

  “Well,” he said as he looked around the library. All the students were enjoying their lunch in the cafeteria or outside in the quad. They were alone. “It’s about the Hara-Kirs,” he whispered.

  Easton finally looked up from her phone. “Why are we having this discussion?” Her voice was serious and her eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t think this is appropriate.”

  “Can we talk about it after school? We need your help with something,” Calloway said.

  “I don’t know how much help I can be,” she said.

  “Well, you’re our only option—please.”

  Easton sighed. “What is this regarding?”

  Calloway leaned forward. “We found the Kirin Book in the Grandiose Historian Library.”

  Her eyes widened. “There are only two books in the known world—how did you find it? And how do you know if it’s authentic? What are the odds that it would be in Fresno?”

  “I’ll show it to you after school,” Calloway said. “That will prove it’s the real thing.”

  “And what do you need me for?” she asked.

 

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