Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  If the human body irradiates electromagnetic waves at low frequency, it is loaded by cells full of atoms, and consequently, by electrons, and if electrons emanate heat, the question is, how can their bodies could be so cold while radiating hot vibrations? It’s a mystery I don’t understand, nor can the laws of physics explain it. It would call attention to the subject if I started asking scientists and teachers about it, and I can’t do that. “Stealth” became my slogan. This was yet another case pending resolution in my personal X-Files.

  The fact is that Adrian had healed my aching muscles by simply touching me with his hands and I may never find out how he did it. I could only make assumptions based on the concepts available on the Internet and according to them, magnetism acts on the human body, creating a type of power—a kind of electromagnetic induction capable of activating blood circulation and promoting oxygenation of the cells. This also would work for the nerves, aiding in tissue regeneration, the elimination of muscle pain, etc., etc., etc!

  Mmmm... But setting the “medicinal effects” aside, it was necessary to consider the energy difference between the palefaces. Adrian’s “energy” drew me to him like a magnet. The same was not true with Dr. Barringer or Stephen. Is this what people call “sexual attraction”?

  Still thinking about all these issues, I finished my bath and went back to my room. I knew I’d have trouble falling asleep. With a resigned sigh, I slipped under the duvet and turned off the light.

  Half an hour later, I was still but I persisted for a few more minutes, turning from side to side until I finally gave up and turned on the light. I thought about watching television, but that idea didn’t excite me either. I looked at the codex. Are you nuts, girl? You aren’t able to sleep, right now...So what? Let it go, girl!

  I folded back the quilt and sat cross-legged on the bed, fully concentrating on my previous conjectures. Adrian could not be a... No, of course not! Admittedly, the Cahill family was outside of any standard, far from any comparison I could draw in my crazy head. That makes any difference in how you feel about him, doesn’t it?

  My voice of reason was screaming inside my head that it should, but the less sensible voice (which was probably my heart) screamed that there was no escape. I felt ensnared in a web...and I was becoming more and more entangled in it. In fact, I suspected that even if I wanted to leave town, he would not let me.

  Oh, no! I’m not assuming that he could impose his presence or keep me his prisoner—far from it, but I’m sure he’d find a way prevent me from leaving by using the arguments of “safety,” just as he did when he convinced me to stay in town, to accept the job, and apply for admission to college. Strange things could happen, but I’d never be absolutely sure about anything else in my life. He would be in charge of it. He would remain vigilant, but out of my reach and my sight and that was precisely what I could not tolerate—not being able to see him, touch him, or just talk to him. We were connected by invisible bonds—far beyond my comprehension.

  Do I really want to know the truth behind all this? I think not. I guess I couldn’t handle the truth, even if it was staring me in the face. Dr. Barringer was right. My mind deserved a break. Adrian was right. I still was not ready for that. But my father was right too... the signs were unmistakable.

  Suddenly the sound of my new phone burst forth louder than my “mental grunt.” I sat there with both hands holding my face, staring at the small unit for some time. By the time I thought to look at the display of my new PDA which was laying beside phone, it was too late to answer. What could Stephen possibly want at this hour? Had something happened to Adrian?

  That thought made me literally leap over to the phone and open the lid in one stride. When I looked at the display, my heart stopped. It was not Stephen... I prayed silently that my voice would sound strong before pushing button to answer the call. Even so, I couldn’t stop myself from sounding ridiculously timid.

  “Hello?”

  There was a moment of silence before I heard the unmistakable sound of his voice...

  “Are you okay?” The hoarse, deep voice vibrated next to my ear, causing a shiver of pleasure.

  I noticed a hint of anxiety in his, but also irritation. Well, I had a right to be irritated too. It was he who said in words that sounded more “friendly” that I need to take charge of my life. So...what happened to all of the talk about “making free choices outside of his influence”? Was it just blah, blah, blah?

  I took a deep breath, trying to not let everything I was thinking spill out of my mouth.

  “I’m fine,” I tried to say as casually as possible...blasé, actually.

  I heard an exasperated sigh from the other side of the line.

  “So as soon as I turn my back and you immediately try to jump off a cliff?”

  “Very funny.”

  He laughed without humor.

  “I didn’t realize that the party was a warm-up for the Olympics,” I added.

  This time he really laughed.

  “If you had used half of the sarcasm with Verano that you use with me, he probably would have left you alone. Poor Stephen almost had a heart attack!”

  He seemed playful, soft...too soft...as if a storm was building up between us, hidden behind his attempt to be gentle. I could feel the intensity of lightning, but I didn’t know when I’d hear the rumble of the thunder.

  “So, you know I’m shy with strangers.”

  I could swear he was smiling despite his annoyance.

  “This is good...” His voice sounded more relaxed, confirming my previous impression.

  “What’s good? Being shy with strangers?”

  “That’s also good...but it’s nice to know that you don’t consider me a stranger anymore. Therefore, I accept your sarcasm as a demonstration of affection.”

  I shuddered at the sudden change in atmosphere. From calm to the storm? No way! He was flirting with me.

  “I hope I’m not calling you too late.” Suddenly he seemed genuinely embarrassed.

  I did not want him to hang up so soon, so I hastened to say, “No, I just got back from the shower room. I was starting to read the diary that your father sent me.”

  I thought he’d make some comment about the codex, give me some advice or explanation, but instead he was silent. When he spoke again, he caught me completely off guard.

  “The bath was nice?” There was something different in his voice.

  “Wonderful,” I responded with false naturalness.

  My face heated up until I feel my eyes burn, like when I had the flu. Thank goodness he couldn’t see me.

  “You’re dressed for sleep?”

  I took a deep breath. Apparently he heard me and laughed softly.

  “Just curious,” he quickly explained.

  Of course, a girl with a little more experience with guys would find the situation funny and more importantly, she’d be able to respond appropriately, but at that stage of the game, my brain couldn’t come up with a witty response, nor could I play the role of a provocative woman. I could only tell the truth.

  “I am.”

  “I bet you’re wearing one of those jerseys that Charity chose for you,” he murmured, his voice sounding like a caress.

  I took a long time to respond. My heart was galloping in my chest.

  “...a demure sweater...with embroidery at the neckline...” he continued, his words slurring a little.

  I knew which sweater he was talking about. It was lovely. The label said it was silk and came from Paris. It was deep inside one of the bags that should not have been in my room when I arrived.

  “No,” I said petulantly. “I’m wearing my old faded T-shirt—the one that says ‘Don’t puke on me!’ and holes that you would find very sexy.”

  He laughed throughout my description. It was a low, mocking laugh.

  “Melissa, you slay me!” He grunted sounding like someone who’d say: I’ll get even with you! “I need to meet your T-shirt...up close.”

  I leaned
against the headboard and sighed. My body was on fire.

  “I thought I wouldn’t hear from you for a long time,” I said, trying to divert the conversation to a less dangerous subject.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I became worried when Stephen called me. I have a long night ahead and I wouldn’t be able to calm down until I heard your voice.”

  “Did it work? Are you calmer now?”

  “On the one hand, yes, but on the other...” He sighed again. “I’d give anything to listen closely to the sound of your heartbeat...”

  I gripped the phone tightly until my knuckles started to ache.

  “Where are you?” I asked tentatively.

  He fell silent.

  “Far from home,” he replied evasively.

  “Are you coming home soon?”

  “Is that what you want?” He asked in a mocking tone of voice.

  “No!” I said breathlessly.

  I could hear him take a deep breath.

  “I’ll try to be there by the end of next week, but I can’t guarantee it,” he added with his usual arrogance.

  “Do you promise to do everything possible to come?”

  He was silent for a long time.

  “You know I will move heaven and earth for it.”

  I shivered at the passion that I heard in his voice. I wanted to ask about what he was doing, but decided not to be nosy.

  “Do you like McPherson House? They are treating you well? How was your day?” He pummeled me with questions.

  I laughed. Apparently, he had no qualms about being nosy.

  “Yes, yes, and good. My day was good, aside from the shock at Verano’s party.”

  I had not finished speaking and I had already repented. I shouldn’t have brought up this subject again. What I feared most happened...his mood changed.

  “I want you to tell me something and I want you to be honest,” he said very seriously. “Did Joe Verano hurt you?”

  Hmmm... Stephen must have told him about the episode in vivid terms, including the fact that Verano had led me to the edge of the rock with the intention of pushing me off.

  “Look, Melissa...for years Verano has been trying to get an audience with my father and depending on what you tell me, my attitude will be one...or another.”

  “What does he want with your father?” I dared to ask, curious.

  I thought he was ignoring my question, but no...

  “He wants the family files,” he said, sounding very annoyed. “The same codices that you’re accessing right now. I don’t know how he heard about them, but the fact is that Verano believes the codices can prove the existence of the Panthers.”

  The silence stretched, leaving me restless. Before he could guess the reason, I decided to distract him.

  “I want you to try extra hard to get here next Saturday.”

  I heard him catch his breath and as I predicted, he was quick to ask, “Why, is something wrong?”

  “No, quite the contrary,” I smiled to myself. “Because I have something to give you...”

  I made a mental note to find a frame shop as soon as possible.

  “A gift...for me?” Now he seemed like a curious child. “What is it?”

  “I guess you’ll find out when you get here.”

  He laughed softly, slightly sinister sounding.

  “Not even a hint?”

  Revenge is a dish best served cold...and I was delighted.

  “Patience is a virtue,” I fired back.

  He burst out laughing.

  “I bet you waited eagerly to tell me this!” he said.

  “You bet.”

  “What a vindictive girl! You finally found that movie...” He continued to challenge me, but I was prepared.

  “Of course!” I pretended an offended tone. “It’s the speech of Evelyn in The Mummy.”

  “Very good!” He praised in a condescending tone.

  “I wouldn’t imagine you liked adventure films.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, how can I explain... I thought you liked intellectual movies.”

  “Again, I have the impression that you think I’m a boring guy,” he laughed. “Well, I liked the movie, yes.” Naturally, the whole time I was rooting for poor Imhotep.”

  I laughed softly.

  “You had to root for the villain, of course.”

  “I don’t exactly see him as a villain, rather as a tortured soul for loving too much. I could identify with him,” he said in a wistful tone.

  Hmmm... This talk was getting serious and I couldn’t handle it. Besides, I wasn’t interested in knowing anything about Adrian’s love affairs.

  “If I remember correctly, the actor who plays Imhotep is quite charming. With his manly bare chest...” Oh, God! I started laughing before I could finish my sentence. I meant to sound sexy, but I only managed to sound affected.

  “By chance, are you giving me an indirect order to take my shirt off for you?” He imitated my pathetic attempt at sounding sexy.

  One of the things I liked most about Adrian was that he knew how to pick up and run with the joke.

  “You bet your life,” I answered in an insolent way.

  “Be careful...” he growled, pretending to be dangerous. “You might end up with more than you can handle.”

  “Promises, promises...” I shot back with the same casual tone even though I was quivering with excitement.

  He chuckled and then, silence enveloped us again. I didn’t know what to say in order to resume the conversation and apparently, he didn’t either.

  “I wish you were here,” I confessed.

  I heard the sound of his breathing get heavier.

  “I know,” he replied gloomily. For just a second, his voice emanated sharp pain. “I have so many things to resolve, things that require my attention, but being with you, even virtually makes me feel better.”

  I should thank Joe Verano. I might even buy him a gift! If Adrian didn’t think that I was in danger, I suspect he would have taken much longer before he contacted me.

  “I miss you,” I said anxiously. I really wanted him to believe it.

  He hardened his voice a little. “Don’t do that. You have much to occupy yourself. Be disciplined, try to study hard, do your work...” His voice was losing its hardness and becoming playful again. “Brush your teeth before bed. Put on your old, sexy T-shirt... preferably over red lacy lingerie.” His voice was now just a sensual whisper. “Red looks good against your skin.”

  “Ah, but I have cotton panties that are breathtaking. Bloomer short model, you know?”

  We burst out laughing.

  “All right, Dad!” I said as soon I recovered my breath. “I promise to study, brush my teeth and everything else...”

  “I hope so... I have to go,” he said, suddenly sounding tired; however, he made no move to disconnect.

  “What a shame,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. I could tell that he didn’t want to end the call, but I didn’t want to seem clingy.

  “No, you have to rest,” he said, now more decisive. “By the way, are you still feeling some pain in your ribs or having difficulty breathing?”

  I shook my head and then remembered that he couldn’t see me.

  “No, I’m fine...just a little tired. Maybe...” I hesitated, amazed that I would resort to whining just to talk a little longer. “I’m feeling a bit feverish tonight.”

  I thought I heard a low moan from the other side of the line and I immediately regretted the low blow.

  “The winds that blow over the lake at the top of the skull are usually cold,” he muttered. “And you just had a bout of pneumonia. You shouldn’t have ventured over there.”

  Oh, how nice to be pampered... I’d never had this kind of attention before.

  “But I’m fine now.” The feeling of guilt prevailed. “It was only a scare. Actually, since taking my shower, I’m feeling great.”

  He paused again. When I started to think that the call had been
dropped, he spoke.

  “Promise me you’ll take care ‘til my return.”

  “Sure, sure. I’ll wait until you’re here to be reckless.”

  “Cute.”

  “Bye.” I decided to take the initiative, before I became too sentimental.

  “Bye.” He murmured, but he still didn’t break the connection. Then I understood that he expected me to do it first. It was with regret that I closed the display.

  I spent some time looking at the unit, feeling myself walking on air. The compulsion to call back him was almost irresistible, but I decided not to yield. I jumped out of bed and did a happy half-pirouette.

  I fell onto the bed, laughing, even though my ribs protested.

  “Adrian isn’t dating Asia Chadwick! Adrian isn’t dating Asia Chadwick!” I joyfully repeated over and over until I was gasping for breath.

  22

  BACK TO REALITY

  I heard a click...

  Almost immediately I felt the evening breeze rustling my hair, confirming that the window had been opened. But how? By whom? Although I did ask such questions, my brain was too slow to order my body to seek the answers—or maybe I was afraid to unravel the mystery.

  Anyway, I could not get out of the stupor I was in. It was so much easier to take refuge in the dream world! So, I stayed quiet until someone began to move inside the bedroom.

  As incredible as it seemed, I wasn’t afraid.

  I clearly heard the sound of clothes rubbing, followed by almost imperceptible footsteps. The anticipation of what was to come made my heart race and I could no longer ignore the intruder. However, when I finally mustered enough courage to open my eyes, all I could distinguish was an athletic figure standing among the ancient bedposts of my bed.

  It began to come close slowly, its contours defined in the moonlight. The first thing I recognized was the outline of the perfect nose and then his arrogant chin and when the figure touched the edge of the mattress, the familiar green eyes sparkled at me.