Jason could tell the teen was trying to explain something to him that was most likely the most abstract concept he’d ever attempted to dissect. Joaquin had said enough to assuage his misgivings. He decided not to press the issue any farther. It wouldn’t help in any case. He himself barely understood how the whole “Gift”-thing worked anyhow. Jason sighed deeply, feeling mentally tired after all of the activity of the day, but was gladdened inside that he had helped make things within the cave a bit better for them, at least for the time being.
“Do you like them, Joaquin?”
“Do I like who?” questioned the boy looking back at him with a little tightness to his eyes.
Jason gestured to the others with a long sweep of his hand. “Them.”
Joaquin’s face softened at once. The hint of a smile moved his lips, it didn’t take him long to answer. “Yes, I do, Jay. I like them a lot. I feel… I don’t know… connected to them, as if… well, I guess it just feels right. There is something telling me, I’m supposed to be close to them. I’m supposed to be here, fighting alongside them. The more I think about it, the deeper the feeling becomes and I am even more certain my instincts are correct. Does that sound Looney or what?
“Naw, man, you’re right. We are supposed to be here, even if it sucks shit logs being separated from our families, our homes, and just about everything else you can think of,” Jason said with a grin that kept on growing.
“Like cable,” added Joaquin, his expression matching the one Jason wore.
“…and TIVO…”
“…pastrami from Pete’s…”
Jason burst out laughing. That’s all this dude ever thinks about – food! Thank god, he works out; otherwise he’d be as fat as tuna!
~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼ }>>>>>>~~~~~~~~
~ 69 ~
Time Lost
Day Three, Saturday, 2:22 am…
She possessed absolutely no recollection of the earliest memories of her life until she had lived in the Melded World for more than two years. At first, they had come in the form of strange, bone chilling déjà-vu. They were flashes of cognitive duplicity she mistook for something she’d done while cavorting about the Construct - the earliest form of this plane - and was merely repeating her actions.
Nonetheless, as time went on, her brain began to shift and alter as quickly as her metamorphosing body. These bits and pieces of the electric past began to deepen with meaning, thicken within the dimension of reality. They had actually happened to her.
Other times, they came in her dreams, in color, complete with smells and touches, laced with the loam of emotion – young, beastly thoughts of a brain firing on all cylinders, but unable to focus for long, unable to stay the full course of a given thought.
Still, in other instances, her head would ache with pain. Her eyes would bulge outward from the internal strain of it. Those were the times she swore she could hear the bones of her skull rub and grate against one another. The agony would build until it was almost unbearable, until she’d nearly pass out. She would feel a small “pop” and the flood-gates would lower, a cascade of memory would fill her to the brim. Sometimes, she’d feel so full, she was sure she would drown. She would have to sit and meditate, let the thousands and thousands of sensations coarse through her body, forcibly trying to fit into the greater recesses of her evolving mind. Sometimes it would take hours. She was a prisoner in her own mind, staving off thirst, hunger, the need to relieve herself. As time progressed, she was beginning to realize she was no longer a German Sheppard mix. Ever so slowly, inklings of self-awareness began to trickle to the forefront of her consciousness. They began to stick. An odd sense of foreboding would streak up and down her spine. She was changing, growing larger. She was becoming something greater, something infinitely more important than the pet of a conscientious little boy. A sense of purpose began to settle about the centermost parts of her mind. She began to relish the pain, hope for it, because, though excruciating, it always left her with something more, a bigger piece of the being she was destined to become.
After more time had passed, she was able to piece together the ragged memories of the dawn of her life into something more linear, something she could follow more readily. Her past, herself and the world she had grown up within, unfolded like road map, becoming ever more expansive with each passing revelation.
I am Kenai.
She lay near the front of the cave, at the very edge of the warmth of the fire they’d let burn down to pulsating, smoldering coals of crimson. It still gave off tremendous heat, but was much less illuminate, so the Guardians could sleep undisturbed. She lay on all fours, her head nestled atop her huge front legs, her jaw balanced over the joints just above her paws. Her eyes were open and alert. If anyone or anything was to come from behind the heavy blanket blocking the entrance to the cave and the drifted wall of snow beyond, she would be the first upon them and the first to raise alarm. Since, they couldn’t mount a real watch over the children, her mother had thought it prudent for one of the Fist to remain awake throughout the night just in case. One couldn’t afford to take chances here in this mixing world. There was no telling what was out there, roaming the land, blizzard or no. Kenai had agreed and immediately volunteered to be the first to preside over the children as they slept.
She was on the last leg of her watch. Garfield would take her place soon. He would stay watching over the rest of them until everyone awoke and resumed their wait for a break in the weather. She could see the Guardians, laying this way and that atop the boughs of vegetation she had gathered for them to use as beds. Beds they had improved over the past two days, making them even more comfortable and warm.
She could hear their breathing as well. It was a chorus of deep wellings, shallow sighs, the occasional snore or sniff, the odd whimper or sleep-slurred word, mumbled mush making no sense. Their individual scents hit her sensitive olfactory senses in waves. Despite the fact they were covered with the fruity fragrances of the soaps and shampoo’s they’d used earlier, she could make out each of them by smell alone. The simple trick of negating the unwanted smells from her mind, allowed her to know them. Their odor could tell her much more than her eyesight ever could. She knew who was sleeping peacefully and who was on the verge of nightmare. She knew who was restless and who was awake, staring up at the ceiling, hoping against hope they would awake in the morning and everything would return to normal.
She smiled inwardly at the indomitable wellspring of belief in each and every one of them. Her heart was warmed by the strength she could sense within them all, courage and determination in such depth they themselves didn’t know it existed yet. They would eventually. They would see with time. She wouldn’t be surprised when it happened. Rather, she would be expectant, for she had smelt it upon them while they slept, when their minds were at rest. Without thinking, she pushed aside more scents. She cast out the male muskiness of Joaquin, the sweet, perky aroma of Sophie and all the others until she could smell only three of them. They were the ones she’d been thinking of moments before, her three young, former masters. She had watched Elena and Mikalah as they had learned to walk, was by his side whenever Anthony would run amok and play.
Elena Herrera – the earthiness of sun-warmed leaves.
Mikalah Herrera – the pungent nectar upon the petal of a flower.
Anthony Herrera – the spicy richness of musk of a boy in the flush of puberty.
She’d been only five weeks old when she had met them. It was the Lady with the Long Hair, Elena, Mikalah, and Myelly – the girls’ mother – she’d seen first, over the edge of the large box her and her littermates were lying within. It had been her home during their stay at the Dog-Pound. She remembered their large faces looming over hers. Their broad smiles and soft voices were still vivid in her mind. Elena had been no more than a year and a half old. Mikalah was an infant of seven months, just learning how to sit up on her own. They had all seemed huge to her back then, as she peered at them with eyes just barely accustome
d seeing the big, wide world beyond the warmth of her mother and the great nipple that gushed with the milk she had coveted as a pup.
The next thing she had remembered was the box closing even as her mother’s massive nose sniffed worriedly within one more time, making certain her pups were unharmed as the box was shut and lifted. All she could make out was the excited voices of the humans who hadn’t only adopted her, but her mother and all of her siblings as well.
The ride to the home of the Lady with the Long Hair had been noisy and full of much jostling and bumping. She, and her brothers and sisters, were tossed about the box situated in the back seat of the horseless conveyance powered by a mysterious, foul smelling liquid - of all things.
A car, she thought absently. Leave it to Humans to invent something as outlandish as that! she mused in the dark, recalling how Myelly had kept opening the flaps of the box, so her tiny, precious little girls could gaze inside and “make sure the puppies were ok”.
Round-faced Mikalah had stared at them with her big brown eyes sparkling with delight. Every time the car ran over a particularly large bump in the road, it would make her and her siblings squeal in protest at being bounced. Mikalah would bubble with wondrous giggles at their itty-bitty sounds.
Elena had peered from a farther distance, a brightly colored pacifier bobbing up and down as she sucked upon it with gusto. Her eyes were bunched by a grin hidden behind the plastic nipple in her mouth.
A few minutes later, they had arrived at their new home, nestled within a hilly corner of Highland Park, abutted against the tiny city of South Pasadena. Kenai remembered hearing more voices as the box was carried up the long flight of stairs, through a gate at the side of the house and finally into the backyard where the Lady with the Long Hair placed the cardboard carrier on the ground. More voices had joined the fray, deeper, masculine, followed by the high-pitched tones of another, who excitedly yanked at the flaps of the box and peered within.
It was the first time Kenai laid eyes upon Anthony. He was a mere seven years old with short, wavy hair and the largest pair of brown orbs she’d ever seen on a human as small as him.
He had asked if he could pick one of the puppies up. His grandmother pulled him back gently, explaining the ‘mommy’ of the puppies would have to have the opportunity to check on her offspring first before any of them could touch them.
He had nodded solemnly and true to the Lady’s words, the large head of her mother replaced the vista before. Kodiak, though she hadn’t been named such yet, began her inspection of her babies - with her eyes, her nose, and her tongue. She had sniffed at them, licked clean those that had defecated or urinated during the trip until she had been certain they were all well. Then and only then did she back away, sitting on her haunches as she was scratched and pet by the huge human males of the household.
Anthony came forward once more. He had been wide-eyed, filled with glee.
From the little form comprising her, Kenai had turned to look back, stretching her neck as far as she could, trying to get a better glimpse of the young boy before her. She smelled him, registering the scent that marked him as him, already capable of storing it away for future use.
His grin was impossibly broad as reached in to touch her.
She remained quiet under the touch of his fingers, while her siblings began to yelp and screech for food, the exertion of their trip had made them hungry earlier than usual. Anthony reached under her chin, gave her a few tiny scratches, and looked back at his parents and his grandmother in awe. “She likes me! She just met me and already she likes me!” the boyish Anthony had exclaimed, his voice so squeaky it almost hurt to hear. He had turned back to her, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Can I pick her up?” He was so excited even then Kenai could see the boy’s father was a little apprehensive at the thought of the young man handling something as small as her. He could accidently harm her without meaning to do so.
“Go slowly, Tony,” began his grandmother. “If her mother growls or does anything indicating that she doesn’t want the puppy to be picked up, you put the puppy back down and pet the mother to reassure her.”
Anthony’s father had nodded in silent agreement.
Anthony turned back to her, edged his hands into the box, placing them with the lightest touch he could muster under the pits of her forelegs. He lifted her from her cardboard surroundings and into the air.
At once, her mother moved forward to sniff at the boy’s fingers and arms, and gave Kenai another quick once over, but didn’t make a sound. Rather, she had licked Anthony’s hands, which made him laugh aloud, keeping a close watch. Other than that, she didn’t do anything else.
Anthony had brought her small body close to him and held onto her securely within both of his arms, cradling her tiny body. For the first time, with someone other than her mother, Kenai felt very warm and content. She had placed her chin within the crook of his forearm and decided to rest, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her alert, though not nervous, mother, pacing at her side. This seemed to calm her. She sat once more upon her haunches, staring from her to her siblings still within the box, screeching louder with every passing second.
“Tony and doggie!” cooed baby Elena all of a sudden. She’d been holding her pacifier in her hand, her face bright with understanding.
The older humans had chuckled.
“Yes, Tony and doggie,” echoed Myelly, who bent down to pat the toddler on the head, holding the plump version of Mikalah in her arms. Kenai could still recall her wild hair and ever-present smile.
Elena’s father scooped her up in his arms and began blowing on her stomach, making unseemly fart noises, which made the little girl squeal with delight. He then pretended to be eating her guts, making her squeal and writhe.
“We should make an area for them to stay,” announced the Lady with the Long Hair, “so this proud mother here can feed her babies in peace.” She had scratched behind her mother’s ears.
A moment later all of the humans were off, on a varying number of tasks, all revolving around the creation a pen where she and her siblings could live for the time being.
As the others moved away, for a short time, Anthony and Kenai were alone.
Her mother moved to follow the box carrying her five brothers and sisters to where the humans were setting up a canine nursery under a wooden canopy, covering a twelve by twelve, concrete section of the backyard.
She recalled his voice more than anything else, mostly because she hadn’t looked up at him at the time. She’d been much too comfortable to want to move much. “I like you, little puppy. My grandma says I can keep one of you guys to have as a pet when you all grow bigger and have to leave. I have never had a dog for a pet before, so this will be my first chance to take care of one. I think I’m going to choose you, little puppy. What do you think of that? Does that sound fun? Since we are living here in the same house, wouldn’t it be nice to have so many people around to love you and play with you? I will be your master, of course, but you will still be able to run around and play with whoever you want. Sound like a good thing? Do you want to stay?”
Kenai had looked up at him then. His voice was so plaintive, it had sparked her interest. She had tilted her head to the side trying to comprehend why he would change the inflection of his voice like that.
He had smiled at her then, nodding as if he had made a decision of some import. “I think you’d want to stay?” he mumbled.
Not really knowing what to do, she did the only thing that came to her young mind, she licked him. Her bumpy, baby-tongue made him jump as if he’d been tickled. He laughed again and from afar came his grandmother’s voice.
“Tony bring the puppy, son, it needs to eat.”
Tony turned and walked toward the others, a sly smile bunching his lips to one side of his face. “Yes, you do want to stay…, huh?”
Even today, a world away, those images, when they surfaced in the mind of the bear-dog, they made her smile uninhibite
dly. They were so dear to her. They had sustained her throughout her long and lonesome task of preparing the way for the Guardians. It was astounding that one of whom just happened to be the very young boy who had picked her out of a litter of puppies and made her his first pet.
She inhaled his scent from across the cave once more. It was different than it had been back almost ten years ago, but the basic origins of his biology remained intact. It was only the infusion of a hundred hormones at once masking what she’d smelt that summer day, long, long ago. To the part of her brain capable of identifying things via smell, he was who he always had been, Anthony Herrera, the boy who chose her.
Now, through some strange twist of fate, he was the Kring-Hël, the reincarnate of the Guardians of the World of Man, reborn the leader who would save them all. Soon, he would become something even more different than the seven-year-old in the backyard of his grandmother’s house. He would be altered by a weight of responsibility so crushing; it could very well turn him into something she prayed he wouldn’t become. It would sadden her beyond anything she’d experienced thus far to see the spirit of the boy drained away and replaced by something hard, honed, and sharpened against reality. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. With all of her heart, she did.
Yet, if that were the only way to see victory against the Lord of the Storm, then it would have to be the way. This was the war to end all wars. Though it had been postulated, prophesied, to exhaustion in the World of Man. This time, it was true. With all the time on their hands, given to them by a relentless blizzard, she’d had plenty of time to contemplate the near future. She was beginning to get a sense of what was on the horizon. It wasn’t pretty or glamorous or adventurous in any way. It was death. It was destruction upon a scale unseen before. The world wars of humanity would pale in comparison. She knew what would be decided upon the Melded World and it frightened her. It would change Anthony. It would change his darling sisters. It would change all of the Twelve – the Guardians.
The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Page 62