Orson: A Paragon Society Novel

by David Delaney

  I'm not a naïve person. At least, I don't consider myself as such. I understand the difference between a lie and an omission. While there are many who would argue that that's just semantics, I didn't suffer from any such illusions. Some secrets needed keeping, if for no other reason than to protect those you loved or, in the case of governments, citizens they're sworn to protect. Elyse knew I understood this from countless conversations we'd had about politics and current events. Now that I thought about it, all of those late night conversations about whether some secrets, especially those to do with national security, were necessary may have been her way of telling me that she had a secret she couldn't share.

  "I'm just feeling sorry for myself." If talking to Becky was difficult, I could only imagine what my first conversation with Aunt Tina was going to be like. She could read me like a book. I had no idea how I was going to pull it off and I voiced that concern. "I know you didn't lie to me. You protected me by withholding information. I get that it's not the same thing. I'm just not sure how well I will do when I have to talk to Aunt Tina."

  "We will figure something out." She gave me a peck on the lips. "I promise."

  I nodded, trusting in her certainty. "Okay. Where to next?"

  "Tina's at work, right?" Elyse asked, pulling her phone out.

  "Yes."

  "Good. We need to go to your house. You will need clothes for the weekend." She was texting somebody, her thumbs flying over the keyboard.

  "Right. Arrowhead. Is it cold up there this time of year?" I asked, starting the car and checking my mirrors before pulling out.

  "The nights can be cool, but I don't think that's going to be a problem."

  I gave her sidelong glance. She smiled at me and went back to texting. Why wouldn't it be a problem? Oh, that's right. Because everyone can turn into giant animals. Elyse was a shape-shifter. She came from a family of shape-shifters. A bunch of the people she knew were shape-shifters. And sometime, probably in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, I would be a shape-shifter as well. I guess, technically, I already was. I just hadn't shifted yet. The question was: What would I shift into? A panther was pretty cool. A wolf, even though a little cliché, wouldn't be too bad either, except that I didn't want to shift into the type of animal Tommy shifted into — shifts into? Could shift into? I didn't even know the right terminology. Anyway, I didn't want to turn into a wolf like Tommy. A juvenile attitude, you bet, but I didn't care. The guy was a douche-nozzle, and I didn't want to have anything in common with him.

  Of course, I may be the Ollphiest everyone seemed so worked about. Which, by the way, was not confidence building. How was I supposed to remain calm and cool when all the giant cat-people and wolf-people were flipping out at just the possibility that I could be the dreaded shifter boogeyman?

  Elyse finished texting. "Dad wants to be on the road in the next hour. Is that doable?"

  "Sure. Hey, I have a few more questions," I ventured.

  "Dad is the best source of answers, really."

  "All right. But can you just answer one?"

  "Maybe. It depends on what it is," she said cautiously.

  "The name Ollphiest. Your reaction was interesting."

  "Yeah. Your pronunciation is horrible by the way," she told me.

  "Excuse me, but ancient Gaelic . . . it is Gaelic, right?" She nodded, and I continued, "Ancient Gaelic is not exactly in my skill set."

  She ignored my sarcasm. "It's pronounced 'ul-fiest' Take the 'ul' from ultimatum and combine it with 'fiest' from feisty."

  "Ul-fiest." I repeated back.

  "Perfect."

  "Okay, now that we've got the language lesson out of the way, spill. Is the Ollphiest really like the boogeyman?"

  "Kind of. Ollphiest literally translated means monster."

  "But what kind of monster?"

  "That's the thing. Nobody knows. It's a scary story kids tell each other. If you're bad, the Ollphiest will come in the night and eat you. Things like that."

  "Eat people?" I felt nauseous.

  "Don't sound so worried. You're not going to suddenly want to eat people. It's a stupid kid's story."

  "But you don't know for sure. Even your dad isn't positive I'm the Ollphiest. And if it turns out I am, nobody knows what I could be capable of." I was starting to understand why Tommy was being such an a-hole. A shape-shifter with unknown abilities could be disastrous for the Society.

  That reminded me of another question I'd had earlier but had been embarrassed to ask. "Um. Elyse, like, how old is your dad?"

  "That is a question you have to ask him."

  "But you're only eighteen, right?"

  "You've known me since junior high, Orson. Of course I'm only eighteen."

  "And you've been eighteen for only, you know, since your last birthday?

  "You are such a dork. I have only been alive for eighteen years. Does that answer your question sufficiently?" She glared at me.

  "Yes. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't unknowingly making out with a senior citizen or something." I tried to say it with a straight face, but failed. Elyse punched me, hard, in the arm. "Ow."

  "Don't be a baby. I didn't hit you with even a fraction of my strength." I glanced over and she had a mischievous grin on her face.

  "Oh, so that's the way it's going to be, huh? Well, once your dad helps me get all Hulked up, I might just have to teach you a lesson."

  "Promises, promises," she taunted.

  The trip to my house was quick. I packed a couple of changes of clothes. Elyse insisted on sweat pants.

  "Why?" I questioned. "I'm no fashionista, but sweat pants are made for one thing only: marathon gaming sessions. I don't want to look like a homeless person in front of your parents," I told her, but she insisted and I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I'm a total sucker for a pretty girl. Especially pretty girls who let me kiss them and squeeze their bottoms.

  After one such kiss and squeeze, she put her foot down. "Enough," she said, breathing a little heavy. "Grab your bag. I'm driving, so you can call your aunt."

  Elyse is an excellent driver. We are talking super precision. When she gets behind the wheel, it is always impressive. Even in my old Corolla. She drives fast and weaves the car through traffic like a NASCAR driver. It dawned on me that it had to be because of her super spidey-senses, or, in this case, cat-like agility. I grinned and shook my head again at the comic book quality my life had taken on.

  Elyse noticed and asked, "What?"

  I was about to hit 'dial' on Aunt Tina's number, when I paused. "It just struck me, how surreal this all is. You're like this awesome superhero, from a family of awesome superheroes. And you're driving me, the new guy, to my destiny. We are living an origin story moment."

  Elyse rolled her eyes.

  "I know, I'm a dork," I said.

  "Yes you are. But it's not just that. This life, hiding from the other seven billion people on the planet, isn't exactly easy. You don't know how many times I've almost messed up around you."

  I didn't respond. I just looked at her and let her talk.

  "Don't get me wrong. I love my life and the things I can do but it's not all . . . I don't know."

  "It has its pros and cons?" I suggested.

  "Yes. But it's more than that. I know it sounds corny, but it's the whole 'great power, great responsibility' thing."

  I tried not to laugh. "So it's not a comic book. It's a movie based on a comic book?"

  "Hilarious. You know what I mean," she said.

  "Yeah. I get what you're saying." I laid my hand on her thigh. "I really do."

  "You need to get Tina called. We're almost to my house."

  I dialed Aunt Tina, and she surprised me by picking up. I gave her the agreed-upon story. I was really glad this conversation was over the phone because, in person, she would have sensed the lie instantly. Even over the phone, she was suspicious. Luckily for me, we pulled into Elyse's driveway and I could pass the phone off to Mrs. Kelly.

 
; Two minutes later, I was back on the phone with Aunt Tina, and she was telling me to behave myself and to offer to wash the dishes all weekend or something as a thank you. I agreed, told her to have a relaxing nephew-free weekend, and ended the call.

  CHAPTER 10

  Lake Arrowhead was not that far from Pasadena. In light traffic, which thankfully we were in due to our middle of the day departure time, the drive was only about an hour and a half long.

  I used my time wisely.

  "Mr. Kelly, do you mind if I ask a few questions while you drive?" I asked.

  "Not at all." If it was possible, his driving was even more amazing than Elyse's. I could imagine that his heightened senses would allow a level of multi-tasking, including driving, that was significantly above the norm.

  I figured that was a good icebreaker question. "The way you drive, is that a heightened senses thing?"

  Mr. Kelly chuckled. "Yes. Being a shape-shifter is more than just turning into another form. The ability makes us stronger, faster, and more agile than regular people. An enhanced sense of sight, smell, hearing — all the normal senses — allows us a greater awareness of our surroundings." He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "And we have a few extra abilities that add an even greater dimension to how we experience the stimuli of the world around us."

  "Like what, if that's cool to ask?" I said.

  "Orson, everything is 'cool' to ask. We will try to cover every aspect of what it means to be a shape-shifter, and your questions will help us. Remember: all of us were born into this life; for us it's second nature. None of us has gone through the experience you're going through. No wrong or stupid questions, got it?"

  "Got it," I agreed.

  "You mentioned that you had been seeing things?" Mr. Kelly confirmed.

  "Yes."

  "The other abilities or senses I'm referring to are a sort of second sight that lets us see energy."

  "Energy? I'm not sure I follow."

  "Everything around us is constructed, in varying degrees, of energy in the form of atoms. This car, the road, those trees, our bodies, everything. Billions of molecules and atoms strung together to make the physical world we experience."

  "You're talking about physics, quantum mechanics?" Being a computer nerd, I get exposed to lots of different science concepts and ideas.

  "Exactly. Well, with our second sight, we can see the energy emitted by all of these swirling atoms," he explained.

  "Shut up!" I said, awestruck. Elyse snorted, and I saw Mrs. Kelly's shoulders shake from quiet laughter. "Uh, sorry. That's just so epically awesome."

  "That's quite all right," he assured me.

  "So you, the Society I mean, have, like, an ultimate understanding of science?"

  "Hardly," Mr. Kelly said wistfully. "We are learning all of these things as the world learns them. Throughout our history, we've just called it by its ancient name: magic."

  "Magic," I repeated.

  "Yes. How else would a shape-shifter be explained in, say, the middle ages? Or a person who could look at you and know if you were mad or lying?

  "You know if someone is lying?"

  "The energy the body gives off, combined with other factors like heart rate and perspiration, are incredible indicators of a person's physical and mental state," said Mr. Kelly matter-of-factly.

  I looked over at Elyse, who shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide a smirk. "You've been able to read me like a book this whole time? Since we met?" I whispered.

  "Whispering around shape-shifters, or anyone in the Society, is pretty useless, Orson," Mrs. Kelly said, reminding me of the obvious. She looked back at me and winked.

  Every interaction with Elyse and her parents raced through my head. Almost five years of moments, some no big deal, but others . . . oh man, how could I ever look any of them in the face again? I felt my face flushing. I realized that everyone in the car knew exactly what I was currently feeling and that made me blush even harder.

  Mr. Kelly came to my rescue. "You have never done anything to be embarrassed about, Orson. Whatever memory is floating up to frighten you, just remember that we have always invited you into our home and we've never once considered forbidding Elyse to be your friend. You are a courteous, respectful young man that we are proud to know."

  Elyse reached over and held my hand. Her touch, more than anything Mr. Kelly said, helped calm me. So I was in a car with a family that knew when I was happy or sad or lying or, heaven forbid, aroused. Oh well. Mr. Kelly was right. If they hadn't kicked me out yet, I guess I was safe.

  I croaked out, "Thank you, sir."

  I wasn't sure if I was up to more questions just yet. There were a thousand things I wanted to know, but I was still reeling. Elyse helped me out with that.

  "Hey, Dad. Orson asked me a good one earlier today." I looked at her, my eyes wide. I shook my head a fraction. "He wanted to make sure I was really eighteen. I assured him he wasn't dating a senior citizen, but then he asked how old you were." Holy crap. She had actually said it out loud.

  "Did he, now?" Mr. Kelly sounded amused. "Well, Orson, would you be surprised to learn that," he locked eyes with me in the mirror, "I was present at the Second Continental Congress?"

  My breath caught, and I felt my eyes bulge. Is it even possible to feel your eyes? Maybe not for regular people, but I was half a superhuman and I tell you, I felt my eyes almost pop out of my head. I didn't remember the exact date of the Second Continental Congress, but they were responsible for the Declaration of Independence, so 1776 figured in there somewhere. Two hundred and fifty years. The Declaration signing had occurred almost two hundred and fifty years ago, and if Mr. Kelly had attended the Congress, then he hadn't been just a kid from the local village, but some kind of delegate or something.

  "Breathe, Orson," Mrs. Kelly reminded me. "Richard can be so dramatic. In answer to your question, we are long lived. Everyone in the Paragon Society is. Richard and I were both born in Ireland in the 17th century."

  Over three hundred years. She was telling me they were over three hundred years old. My brain couldn't compute the numbers. It was impossible. But was it any less possible than Elyse turning into a giant cat? Three hundred years. The things they must know. They had lived through the entire history of the U.S. It was unreal.

  When all else fails make a joke. That philosophy has served me well my entire eighteen years, so why not now? "Wow. You guys don't look a day over one hundred," I deadpanned.

  The silence in the car was complete.

  Uh oh.

  Then Mr. and Mrs. Kelly erupted in laughter. Elyse was shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Honestly, I can't take him anywhere," she chided.

  "Orson, if you can keep your wits and sense of humor about you in the light of your experiences the past day, you will be okay," said Mr. Kelly, still chuckling.

  I spent the rest of the drive asking history questions. It didn't matter that I may be the Ollphiest. It didn't matter that nobody knew what exactly that meant. It didn't matter that I was heading to a remote cabin in the woods where I would turn into some kind of big scary animal. I was getting firsthand stories about Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington. I defy anyone to say they wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.

  The cabin sat in the middle of four wooded acres. The driveway was a narrow dirt track that wound through the trees. On the road up, I had spotted a handful of other cabins through the trees. Elyse explained that this part of the mountain was a little more private, due to the larger tracts of land.

  We rounded the last curve in the driveway and the cabin came into view. It was exactly what you'd expect a mountain cabin to look like: a two-story wood framed home with a large wrap-around porch. As we exited the car, I looked around for any sign of neighboring cabins, and all I could see were trees. It was quiet, and the air was fresh and sweet with the scent of pine.

  I felt a wave, not of vertigo exactly, but something like it, roll through my body.

  Mr. Kelly ap
peared by my side. He had a hold of my upper arm. His grip wasn't tight, but it was firm enough that I was pretty sure I couldn't break free, even if I wanted to. "It's the surroundings, the trees, the mountain air," he said. "Your body is reacting to them on a deep, primal level."

  I kept waiting for the feeling to pass, but it never went away entirely. Instead, it became a low undercurrent, a buzzing just below my skin. It was a strange sensation. I would just have to get used to.

  "I think I'm good. It's not gone, but it's manageable," I said.

  Mr. Kelly released my arm and gave me a pat on the shoulder. Elyse came around the car and put an arm around me in a half hug. I leaned into her, thankful for her reassuring touch.

  "Let's get the car unpacked and give the cabin a quick cleaning before lunch," Mrs. Kelly said. She had the front door unlocked and was holding it open with a hip, her arms full of grocery bags stuffed with supplies. Elyse and I each grabbed bags from the back of the SUV and carried them inside.

  The main room of the cabin was large. It had vaulted ceilings and opened onto a good-sized kitchen. The back wall of the main room was almost all windows; the view was of the woods a peaceful sea of green and brown. A set of stairs next to the kitchen led up and down. I assumed bedrooms were upstairs, I had no idea what would be downstairs. You don't see too many basements in California. Maybe it was a cabin thing, to maximize space or something.

  "You want a quick tour?" Elyse asked.

  "Sure."

  "Skip the basement for now," said Mr. Kelly.

  Skip the basement? He hadn't said it in an ominous way, but it was a weird thing to say. What was in the basement? More importantly: what didn't he want me to see in the basement?

  "No need to worry, Orson. I'll take you down there myself, as soon as we unpack and dust the furniture," said Mr. Kelly.

  Right. Super-senses. I needed to remember that very important fact.

  Elyse gave me a quick tour. The first floor was comprised of the main room, kitchen, full bathroom, mudroom, and laundry room. The stairs led up to a second floor with two large bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.