Misty Falls

by Joss Stirling

  ‘Do you want me to show you how to abseil?’ asked Phil, the best of the four at climbing.

  I shook my head.

  ‘I don’t think it’s worth waiting for Alex. He’s talking to that guy, his uncle. Great, isn’t it? I’m so pleased he’s got family now.’ Phil crouched beside me.

  I nodded. I shouldn’t feel sore that I’d been abandoned for Johan. I had had plenty of people to help me and Alex probably had no idea how scary I found heights.

  ‘So you’ll let me demonstrate?’ asked Phil. I think he got how upset I was, unlike my soulfinder. We’d had that sweet moment on the wall and then he’d just abandoned me. ‘There’s no other way down, you know.’

  ‘And I’d been hoping for wings,’ I said, a little shakily.

  ‘It’s much easier than climbing up.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s simple.’ Hugo helped adjust my ropes. ‘Just keep straight or you get off alignment and end up swinging like a pendulum.’

  Michael rubbed my neck consolingly. ‘And think: you never have to climb this damn wall again once you get down.’

  Now that was a good thought. I stood up, kept my eyes fixed on Phil, who was letting out my rope, and walked slowly down the wall. No showy slide for me.

  I got to the ground without mishap. Phil gave me a thumbs-up as Hamish unclipped my gear.

  ‘Want to try that again?’ he asked.

  ‘Not in this lifetime,’ I replied earnestly. I looked round, expecting Alex to at least congratulate me for overcoming my fear of heights but he was at the drinks dispenser with Johan, feeding in coins. ‘Thanks, Hamish, but I’m done here.’

  The guys zipped down the ropes like Special Forces ending a hostage crisis.

  ‘Got anything more challenging?’ asked Phil.

  I left the other three to their climb as they tried the black route.

  ‘Hey, Alex,’ I said softly, approaching him and Johan. ‘Hi again, Mr du Plessis.’

  ‘Misty.’ Johan nodded.

  ‘So, Misty, you got down OK?’ asked Alex.

  He hadn’t even watched.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Easy, isn’t it?’

  I swallowed and looked away. ‘I think I should be getting back to school.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Homework.’ I hadn’t been intending to do it tonight but it was true that I did have some.

  ‘Uncle, do you mind if I just walk Misty back?’

  Johan smiled apologetically at me. ‘That’s fine but I can’t stay long. My car’s only got an hour left on the meter.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Misty, maybe Hugo could go with you? Hey, Hugo, come here a moment!’

  Holding on to the wall with one hand, Hugo waved that he was on his way.

  I didn’t want to be passed round like a parcel. ‘No need. Tony’s got a jujitsu class here this evening. I’ll text him and ask if I can walk back with him. He finishes about now.’ I got out my phone and sent the message.

  Alex smiled distractedly. ‘Great. Problem solved. Hugo, request cancelled.’ He brushed a kiss on my cheek, lacking its usual spark.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me monopolizing Alex like this,’ said Johan, ‘but I’m only in the country a few more days.’

  So was Alex.

  ‘It’s not every day you discover a nephew.’

  Or a soulfinder.

  ‘Of course, it’s fine. I’ll see Misty later.’ Alex stepped in before I could say something blunt. He had to sense I wasn’t happy but I could tell he thought I was being selfish. Was I? I didn’t know if it was that or even more ugly resentment that I was being edged out. I’d told him I’d put him first in family things but he wasn’t reciprocating, was he?

  ‘Actually, Alex, I’m busy tonight.’ Washing my hair.

  He didn’t sound too bothered. ‘OK. Tomorrow then.’

  ‘If you can fit me into your busy schedule.’

  ‘Very funny. See you.’

  Finding myself dismissed, I headed for the women’s changing room, seething.

  Arriving back in my bedroom after the climbing wall incident, I reached for my phone.

  ‘Hi, Summer?’ I could hear classical music playing in the background. ‘Can you talk?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to but hang on.’ There was a fumbling and a muttering at the other end, then Summer came back on line. ‘OK, escaped from that deadly concert. I have a few minutes before they notice. How’s things with your gorgeous soulfinder?’

  I couldn’t help myself: I just poured out all my woes—my feelings after the trashing of the bedroom, my exclusion from the debates, Alex’s preoccupation with his new relative. ‘Am I being really selfish and horrible?’ I ended.

  Summer paused before answering, choosing her words with care. ‘I think anyone would feel like you, Misty. It’s a difficult time for you both.’

  ‘Funny thing is that Uriel once asked me not to dent Alex’s confidence but Alex is doing a brilliant job dismantling mine.’

  ‘Oh, Misty.’

  ‘Yeah. I know you and Angel think that finding your soulfinder is the passport to eternal happiness but I’m finding it a one-way ticket to feeling bad about myself. Surely this isn’t right?’

  ‘Have you talked to Alex?’

  ‘He knows there’s something up, but he’s finding excuses: the attack on my room, the threat of the killer, the journalist creep. He says sod all about his failure to provide what I need right now.’

  ‘And what do you need?’

  ‘What I need … is to feel that I’m as important to him as he is to me.’

  ‘Does Alex realize that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess he thinks we’ll have time to sort things after the competition and when this Johan person has left. He’s distracted.’ Anger flared. ‘But do you know what? Alex is breaking his promise to put my happiness first. He won’t even allow me in to see the final and I so want to be there.’

  ‘You’ve got to tell him. How else is he to know?’ I heard a sigh. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Promise me you’ll try to explain this to him. Don’t hide how you feel.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you too, Summer.’ As I ended the call, I realized I wished Alex would just say he loved me.

  Alex’s team won the final but it was really hard for me to join in the rejoicing. Tarryn and Uriel had seconded Alex’s opinion that I was too dangerous to have in the room so I hadn’t been there to see them triumph over the Danes. We went to a pizzeria to celebrate the victory, square tables shoved together for our party. Hugo, Phil, and Michael were down the other end with Tony, Annalise and Hafsa. My friends had cheered for the South Africans and they couldn’t understand why I hadn’t turned up to support them. I said something lame about not being good for Alex’s concentration.

  Dismissing my explanation with a shrug, Annalise turned back to Phil. ‘You were so funny! Your joke about bankers really floored the Danish team.’

  ‘And Alex really crushed them in the summing up. There was no coming back from that,’ added Hafsa.

  ‘Yeah, it was way more fun than I expected,’ said Tony.

  I fiddled with the fat pepper grinder. ‘You know, Alex, all I need is a bell and a sign saying “leper”.’

  ‘You’re in quarantine for my sake, not because there’s something wrong with you,’ Alex pointed out, topping up my lemonade from the little bottle it had come in.

  ‘There’s a lot wrong with me when I can’t even be there for my soulfinder.’

  ‘Sssh, bokkie, you’re getting upset.’

  Calm and reasonable did not help. ‘Getting upset? I am upset! I’ve been upset all week.’ Oh no, I was going to lose it, here in the middle of La Dolce Vita.

  ‘I know. I understand.’

  He didn’t. ‘I’m such a crappy soulfinder. I just want to be there for you—to hear you, see you do your speeches.’

  ‘Maybe one day we’ll work out how to do that, but today you would’ve ended our winn
ing streak. I didn’t want to do that to my friends.’ Alex’s eyes went to his mates who were having a great time with mine at the other end of the table. ‘Winning meant so much to them.’

  ‘You let Johan listen.’ Alex’s uncle had been to all the debates, positioning himself proudly in the front row. Johan was now sitting next to Alex but was caught up at the moment in his conversation with Tarryn. If he heard our quarrel he was too polite to show it. Tarryn was reminiscing about Alex at school; Johan liked to soak up all the little growing-up stories he had missed. I heard snatches of ‘top of his class’, ‘amazingly mature for his age’, ‘valued member of the school community’. The differences between us had never been starker.

  Alex’s attention turned to his uncle, a small smile appearing. ‘Of course he can listen. He doesn’t have the same effect on me as you.’

  I already knew that. ‘But Alex, I feel a total dead loss.’ I wanted to be better, more selfless than I was. I massacred my pizza crust and gave up on the meal. ‘No wonder someone wants to get rid of me—even I want to get rid of me.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that!’ I’d made him cross but I didn’t care; hopelessness and recklessness surged through me. At least he was now paying attention. ‘You’re my soulfinder—perfect for me.’ He squeezed my hand, almost punishingly. ‘We are just going to have to work at things.’ His blue eyes blazed with sincerity.

  ‘Work at things? Like we can do that with you living on the other end of the world! I barely have a week with you and you’re spending it with other people.’

  Why was I doing this? I knew I was being self-destructive but somehow I couldn’t pull myself back.

  Alex released my hand and sat back in his chair, expression a great deal cooler than normal. ‘You know something, Misty, it sounds to me like you’re having second thoughts.’

  Not for the reasons he was thinking. I felt as if I were competing with Johan and losing.

  Attack seemed the best form of defence. ‘Why am I the problem here? What about you? What about you trying to get by in public with me there?’

  ‘Misty—’

  ‘No, you listen. Why do I have to be exiled? Can’t you learn to cope? Why not give me some of your precious time and try that?’

  ‘I can learn, but I don’t think the international debate competition is the place to road test, do you, what with you forcing the unvarnished truth out of me if you’re there?’ His tone was cool, even a little patronizing. ‘And I won’t apologize for wanting to get to know my uncle: that’s natural.’

  ‘When will there be a good moment for you to learn if you can always put it off?’

  He shook his head in a don’t-be-silly-Misty way that drove me over the edge.

  ‘And what is it that you think you’re going to say if I force you to tell the truth? That’s how you put it, you know: me forcing you like … like a slave driver cracking a whip behind you.’

  ‘I don’t say it like that.’

  ‘Yes, you do!’ I had counted the occasions even if he didn’t keep score. ‘You make me hate myself when you say that about my gift. It’s always “Misty made me … ” or “the truth was forced from me”. What’s so wrong with the truth? What if I’m the one in the right and everyone else is wrong to spend their whole lives lying to each other to smooth the way?’

  Then it hit home. I had thought that, of those I was close to, only my father didn’t accept me as I was, but he wasn’t alone. Human society hated honesty. Savants differed only in that they saw my truth gift as a condition to be handled carefully, a handicap that needed therapy. Being Misty wasn’t enough, not even for my soulfinder. Not even for me.

  ‘Hey, Misty,’ Hugo called, ‘your friends say you sat in your room during the debate.’

  My new room. It was empty apart from a small case of new clothes as all my possessions were spoiled.

  ‘Yes, I did.’ I didn’t look at Hugo. My gaze fixed on the black blob of olive sitting on my uneaten pizza. It looked like a mini car tyre had got mired in yellow mud. Wheels come off a relationship.

  ‘Now that’s just mean. I thought you were our friend.’ His tone was jokey but it came out as an accusation. ‘We needed all the support we could get as most guys were on the side of the glamorous Danes.’

  ‘Hugo,’ warned Alex. He was worried about my dark mood, I could tell, but hadn’t twigged how deep my despair had become. ‘I asked Misty not to come.’

  ‘Why? You ashamed of her or something?’ Again Hugo meant it as a jest but it didn’t come out as being funny; his tone was too serious. My gift at work.

  I got up. Alex had said right from the beginning I embarrassed him. I was proving him right.

  ‘Misty, I’m not ashamed … ’ Alex stopped; he couldn’t complete the sentence, telling everyone in the room exactly how he regarded me. His embarrassment. His burden.

  ‘I’m going home.’

  Alex rose to follow me.

  ‘Not with you.’ I couldn’t bear to be with him right now.

  He sat down, his hurt clear to read in his expression. Why not?

  I just can’t be with you right now.

  ‘You can’t go alone.’

  Uriel started to rise but Johan got up, waving him to sit. ‘I’ve got to move the car from its two-hour slot so I’ll take her back for you, Alex.’ He patted his nephew on the shoulder.

  ‘Thanks.’ Alex nodded to his uncle but didn’t glance at me. He was in ‘licking wounds’ mode.

  Hugo opened his mouth to add something but Phil elbowed him in the ribs.

  ‘See you later, Misty!’ called Hafsa. I could hear the subtext: she would check on me when she got in.

  I nodded and walked out, shoulders hunched. I had been rude but it was better than bursting into tears and spoiling everyone’s evening. Exile at least had that benefit.

  Johan caught up with me on the pavement outside. A bitter wind was blowing. ‘My car’s just round the corner.’

  ‘Thanks. You don’t have to do this.’ Part of me hankered after a quiet walk back to put my scattered thoughts in order. My head felt like my room after the intruder had been through it.

  ‘It’s fine, Misty. In fact, it’s a pleasure. A lift will save you a freezing walk across Cambridge and Tarryn explained why none of you should be alone.’ He pointed his keys and the lights on a black Toyota flashed, wing mirrors moving out to drive position. ‘Jump in. I’ll have you back in no time.’

  Settling into the passenger seat of his hire car, it took me a moment to register we were heading for the ring road.

  ‘It’s quicker this time of night if you cut through town. Do you want me to direct?’ I massaged my temples. My head felt like I was suffering from a bad cold, congested so that it was hard to hear and breathe. Lights flashed by, people distorted by shadow and speed.

  ‘That’s OK. I can find my way with the satnav.’ He angled the little dashboard machine towards him and glanced at the screen. ‘I see what you mean. But now I’m on this route we might as well follow it. Are you feeling any better?’

  Actually I was feeling worse.

  He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘My nephew is quite something, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, you can be very proud of him.’

  ‘Do you think he’d like to make a home with me during his college breaks?’

  ‘Probably. Ask him. He wants family more than anything.’

  ‘Not more than you, surely?’

  After our argument? We’d find that out in the morning. ‘I don’t know, Mr du Plessis. Sorry, I’ve a headache.’ I closed my eyes, head back against the rest.

  ‘You have? I’m good with curing that kind of small problem. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?’

  ‘That’s your gift?’ I couldn’t seem to open my eyes.

  ‘Yes, I can take it away. It’s really very simple.’

  He was telling me the truth. ‘Well, if it won’t distract you from the road, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘No problem. I’m just
going to touch your forehead. You won’t feel a thing.’

  ‘Useful gift.’

  ‘I think so.’ A cool fingertip brushed my eyebrows. ‘Right, on the count of three, you will be gone. One, two … ’

  There was a twig under my cheek.

  It took me a moment to make sense of that. Hang on, it still didn’t make sense. I opened my eyes. I was lying face down on a leafy patch of ground, not in my bedroom.

  ‘What the heck … ?’

  Someone was walking away from me, leaves crunching under boots. I felt sluggish, my arms and legs slow to obey my order to get up. I was also freezing. As sitting up was too much just at the moment, I rolled onto my back. Bare branches networked overhead, only a few bone-dry leaves hanging on but half-heartedly as if they knew they wouldn’t survive the next brisk wind. I registered that I was still wearing the clothes I had worn at the pizzeria but that night had passed and it was dawn. The next day or some other day? Chilled birds sang their distress from a tangle of brambles.

  Making a huge effort, I sat up. The dew damp had gone right through all layers of clothing. A small campfire had burned down to ashes a metre away. Someone wrapped in a sleeping bag with his back to me was stirring it with a stick. His face was hidden so I couldn’t tell if I knew him.

  Too exhausted to move, I let myself explore the possible explanations. A dream. Sucking the scratch on my palm—how had I got that?—filled my mouth with the taste of blood and earth. No dream could do that, not with such intense reality.

  I’d gone on a camping trip and lost my memory? Got really drunk for the first time? This seemed the best explanation. But why wasn’t I in a sleeping bag like the other person? It seemed cruel to leave me shivering even if I’d passed out in a stupor.

  OK, so maybe I’d hit my head and wandered into this camp by accident? That would make the sleeper a stranger. I’d ask him for help.

  But what if one of the anti-savant people had abducted me? I had a vague recollection of being roused in the pitch dark to walk here and falling asleep again immediately. If that was the case and not some random dream, it was likely to be my kidnapper over there.

  Desperate now, I looked about me, trying to get a clue as to where we were. I was lying in a clearing surrounded by tall, ancient-looking trees. In the distance I could hear a road but it sounded very far away.