by RJ Johnson
For the first few minutes, Alex just sat and nursed the coffee his father had given him as the older man busied himself in the kitchen. Unsure of what exactly to talk about, Ted began to regale Alex with stories about his friends from high school, giving him the high school reunion treatment in thirty seconds. The ones who had left and gone onto huge jobs and opportunities, the ones who were married, and one other whom Alex was especially anxious to hear about.
“Scott’s been working with NASA at JPL for the last three years now.” Ted said happily, turning back to his son, ignoring the burning eggs in the pan on the stove. “That kid was always whiz-bang smart while you guys were growing up, but man, he really has taken it to another level. He’s literally a rocket scientist. He still comes over whenever he’s back in town, and we chat about what he’s up to, what projects he works on...” Ted turned back to the eggs. “Oh, dammit all to hell.”
Ted grabbed the pan off the stove, moving it to another burner. Grabbing a bowl full of egg yolks too quickly, he spilled the yellow viscous fluid all over the counter.
Alex smiled, put down his coffee, and went over to the stove, gently moving his father away from their breakfast. If he had any hopes of eating this morning, he thought, it was probably best that he took over; his father had a less-than-stellar record in the kitchen. Growing up, Alex had handled most of the cooking, and the both of them had become very thankful for that.
Ditching the eggs his father had ruined, Alex turned to the refrigerator and removed five eggs from the carton in the back. He placed them each deliberately side by side on the counter. Cracking them each, one at a time, into the bright metal mixing bowl on the kitchen counter, he stirred the eggs and milk together.
And for a moment, things were normal.
Ted watched as his son quickly and efficiently finished stirring the mixture together, then turned back to the stove, the pan already hot. Alex dumped the contents of his mixing bowl into it, and was rewarded by the sharp hissing of the eggs curdling on impact with the heat. Mixing the eggs in the pan with a wooden spatula, Alex laid out several cuts of bacon on the griddle that his father had heated up during his prep. Even with the simple, easy-to-cook meals, the calm that overtook Alex centered him in a way that no drugs, alcohol or meditation could.
The Norman Rockwell scene was short lived, however, as his father finally asked the question that Alex had been expecting all morning.
“Alex...” the old man said softly, “Where did you go?”
Alex lowered his head. It wasn’t time to answer that yet. In fact, if he wanted his father to live, it was best that he didn’t know anything else. But, he knew, six years is a long time to think your son a dead man, and Alex owed him something.
Alex removed the pan of eggs from the heat of the stove and dumped generous portions onto two plates his father had brought out. Placing a few strips of bacon on his plate, Alex turned to his father, who waited patiently for his son to answer.
“I’ve been dead, Pops.”
“So the Army told me, and yet here you are.” Ted sat back down at the table and attacked his egg. “I know technology is getting pretty good, but I don’t think they can make copies of people just yet, so that just leaves the 'nutjob conspiracy theory' part of my brain screaming out ideas of where you’ve been for the last six years.” Ted said, lowering his voice. “But whatever reason it was, I don’t much care. I’m just damn glad to have you back, kid.”
Alex sighed and looked in his father’s eyes. “Pops, I wish I could explain everything right now. There’s no limit to how terrible I feel on what you must have gone through, thinking I was gone all these years. I’m sorry; it was a decision I made irrationally, and once I was in, I couldn’t get out… I really…” Alex paused, as he struggled with the words. “I honestly wish I could tell you everything, but unfortunately, that’s just not an option I’ve got.” Alex leaned forward to his father as he spoke clearly. “There are…ghosts following me right now, and I don’t want them to find you too.”
Listening to his son, Ted nodded, “I’ll take what I can get, kiddo. Whatever I can do, I’ll keep you safe for now.”
“For now…” Alex agreed.
Ted heard the pain in his son’s voice and decided to make it easier for him.
“You stay as long as you need to. Just…” Ted’s voice broke again at this point, “You have to tell me goodbye when you leave this time. Fair?”
Alex nodded and clinked his coffee cup against his father’s. “Fair deal.”
“And then with that in mind, do you have any idea how long you can stay?” Ted’s voice was hopeful, and Alex hated to disappoint his father, but safety, speed and inconspicuousness were the keys to his survival for the moment.
“I might have two days.” Alex said, wincing even as he said the words. His father took it better than he thought he would.
“Then let’s not waste any time. You look like you're still in good shape; limber enough for some rope climbing?” his father asked, becoming a bundle of energy.
“Yeah, I still get out rock climbing every once in a while.” Alex’s eyes became distant as he thought for a moment about a particularly tricky slope in Afghanistan that he had found himself clinging to.
“In that case, I’ve got two days with my son, and I’m determined not to waste any time. The way I see things, you’ve missed six annual trips to Joshua Tree, and you owe me.” Ted said brightly.
They had gone to the remote location in the Mojave Desert for its spectacular camping and climbing spots ever since Alex was fourteen years old. In fact, it had been those trips that had inspired Alex to join the Armed Forces. He and his father would climb the highest cliff available and watch the jets fly in and out of 29 Palms, dreaming of the day when it would be his turn behind the yoke and control stick, screaming across the sky at five hundred miles an hour. Unfortunately, Alex had grown too tall to fly in the fighter jets, but the Army had treated him like a gift from above.
Ted had already gotten up from the breakfast table, intent on packing for their trip. Alex grabbed his eager father’s arm before he could get too far.
“Pops, I can’t be seen in the open right now. I took a huge risk even coming here.” Alex kept his voice low. “I’m safe for now, but there’s no guarantee that it will stay that way. Men are looking for me, and while there’s no record of where I come from, or where I grew up, if I’m seen, that puts you in danger.”
“It’s not a pretty world we live in,” Ted replied evenly to his son. “You’re my son, and as far as I know, you died six years ago, killed by some damn stupid training exercise. No one will find out who you are, or what happened to you. I’m just asking for one more family trip, you and I…together, before you have to go back out into whatever wild blue yonder you find yourself in again.”
Ted’s voice lowered, sounding almost desperate. “I haven’t had much going for me the last few years, with your mother dead, and you gone. Some nights, well, some nights I didn’t really see the point of going on, but now that I know you're alive and you're here…” Ted paused, choking up. “I’m going to treasure every moment I’ve got.”
Alex’s sense of self-preservation was beginning to wane. How much more could he really put his father through? Besides, Joshua Tree was in just of a remote area of California as Onyx was; the risks probably wouldn’t be any worse there than they were here. In fact, Alex considered, it might actually be the perfect place for him to hide out for the next few days.
He smiled broadly at the older man’s enthusiasm, “All righty, Pops, let’s go climb some mountains.”
Ted slapped his knee and rushed off with an energy that Alex hadn’t seen for a long time. Whatever happened, Alex decided, it was worth seeing his father this happy again.
Chapter Four
The average day in Joshua Tree was hot, which was to be expected considering that its home, the Mojave Desert, boasted some of the hottest temperatures in the world. Death Valley, for instance, only a
few miles north of Joshua Tree, boasted the world record of 132 degrees Fahrenheit. Today didn’t look like it was going to break any records, but the 115-degree heat let the two rock climbers know that Mother Nature wasn’t messing around.
Alex and his father were on the west side of the park, two miles away from anyone else in the world, ascending one of the more remote climbs available. The route lay directly on one of the largest and most imposing of mountains in the Joshua Tree National Park. The edges sloped up quickly, making it a sheer face for most of the climb. Even experienced climbers shied away from this mesa, preferring to stick to the easier routes located further to the south.
Alex huffed and puffed his way up the rock, his fingers struggling to find a more secure hold. The top of the Mesa was only a few feet away, but nearer to the top, the edges became more slippery, the granite worn smooth from years of rainwater washing down the sides of the cliff. It was challenging, but it was also an enthralling experience. One false move, a slip of the fingers at some critical moment perhaps, and Alex was going to have a very quick fall with an even quicker stop at the end.
His index finger slipped as bits of gravel bit into his knees. He grimaced, grit his teeth, and accidentally bit his lip. Tasting blood, Alex leaned closer into the wall, struggling to keep his hold on the slippery granite.
He braced his left hand and pushed himself up, grabbing a finger hold only a few dozen feet away from the top of the mesa. Exhaling softly, he moved his body up onto a ledge, sitting carefully to give his body a rest before the final ascent. He called down to his father below him.
“You’re getting old there, Pops!”
Ted had fallen behind during the climb to the top of the mesa. Alex hadn’t rushed him – his father was pushing seventy, after all – but incredibly, he had kept up with Alex the entire time. Alex smiled at his father as he made the last few feet and joined him on the ledge.
Ted turned to his son, struggling to catch his breath.
“I might be slowing down a bit,” he wheezed, “but I’m still spry enough to kick your ass.” Ted kept moving, pushing his feet against the rock and grabbing the edge of the mesa wall. Displaying an impressive burst of energy for someone in his late sixties, Ted free-scaled the last ten feet handily, leaving his son with his jaw on the ground.
After all these years, Alex thought, he had no idea how his father stayed so active. Growing up, it had always been his father’s idea to get out into the great outdoors; whether it was rock climbing in Joshua Tree, scuba diving in Hawaii, or climbing some of the highest peaks the United States had to offer, Ted had always taken his son on these trips with the zest and thrill of a much younger man.
The added bonus to all their father/son adventures was the several pounds of muscle they had packed onto Alex’s lean frame. He had used his naturally athletic body to take his high school to several state championships. After receiving several scholarship offers, Alex had settled on going to Stanford with his friend Scott, where they would live and learn together and for several years.
Ted stood triumphant over his son. Huffing and puffing, Alex took the challenge and free-scaled the last ten feet to the top, shaking his head as he sat down with his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff.
“I’ll never understand just where you get all that energy. Good news for me, I guess.”
Ted smiled as his unzipped his backpack. Pulling out two bottles of water and two energy bars, he handed one of each to his son, and opened his own bottle of water.
“Why so?” Ted asked as he bit off a piece of the energy bar.
“Good genes. Means I’ll be able to kick my son’s ass when I’m in my sixties too.”
Ted nodded and sat down next to his son. Through a mouthful of his snack, he said, “And I’ll be just as happy to pull you and my grandkid up those last ten feet then too.”
Alex laughed. The two of them admired the sunset for a few minutes. The smog over Los Angeles, only a few hundred miles to the west, made the vivid orange-red tones all the more brilliant.
“Alex,” Ted’s tone was quiet and slightly ominous. Alex looked over at his father. He had never seen his father’s face so sad.
“We having ‘that’ talk now?” Alex asked his father.
Ted cocked his head.
“Do you want to have that talk now?” Ted asked. “I never asked where you were, Alex. I know you took your breakup with Emily…”
Alex looked up sharply at the mention of her name. “Emily wasn’t the problem, Pops.”
Ted’s face fell at Alex’s reaction to his ex-fiancée’s name. Six years ago, shortly after graduating from Stanford, the two had gotten engaged. Ted had never gotten the full story from Emily. Apparently, the two of them had fought bitterly. Over what, she never said.
Ted had called Emily after receiving his son’s letter telling him that he had enlisted in the Army and would be out of contact for a few weeks. She hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about the details, and at the time, he hadn’t known how to react to his son’s sudden disappearance into the Armed Forces. Unfortunately, it was only a few days later that Ted had received the call that his son had died at boot camp, in some stupid training accident, and would not be coming home. “The President thanks you for your son’s heroic service.” Bitter words, which had not consoled Ted over the last six years.
The funeral had been short, but beautiful. Ted had been too devastated to plan or do much of anything, so Scott had taken care of most of the details. It was a simple ceremony where each of them — Scott, Ted, and Emily — said a few words, then buried mementos in a small casket. The grave overlooked the Onyx valley Alex had loved so much. Ted had visited that grave every morning for six years straight — that is, until yesterday.
“Emily was your whole world at one point, Alex,” Ted prodded his son, hoping that some information might spring forth. “Something bad had to happen to trigger it all, and being your father, I was hoping you’d care to tell me what it was.”
Alex sighed as he rubbed his face. But without explaining the last six years to his father, he couldn’t begin to tell him the story about Emily. “Pop, instead of rehashing all that painful past, how's about we enjoy the moments we have now? How about that?”
Ted looked disappointed, but after a few moments, he nodded and reached into his pocket.
“I actually wasn’t going to bring up Em…” Ted stopped abruptly, seeing his son wince at the sound of her name again. “Her. I really wasn’t going to talk about her initially. I just thought maybe… Bah, forget that. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.”
Alex looked up at his father, who was clutching a dirty brown and white rag all tied up into a bundle. Ted handed it to his son.
“Go on son, open it.” His father said.
Alex turned the rag over in his hand. It looked familiar. As he began to worry the knot on the rag, his father looked out at the desert and the setting sun and began talking.
“Twenty years ago, do you remember Scott’s falling out of the tree in the meadow behind the house? Do you remember any of that?”
Alex’s brow scrunched as reached back into his subconscious mind. Blurry shapes of young boys running around in a forest, blood everywhere, a mysterious blue light.
“Yeah, I do actually,” Alex said in surprise. “Me and Scott used to tell that story about how he almost died one weekend at my place, but no one would believe us because Scott didn’t have a mark on him.” Alex looked at the rag in his hand as he finally loosened the knot opening the bundle.
“Scott didn't have a mark on him because of what you found that day, Alex,” Ted said gently, “You healed Scott’s body. That rag you’re holding is stained with the proof that Scott was injured that day.” As Ted said that, a stone attached to a necklace fell out into Alex’s hands. “And that is what healed him.”
Alex turned the stone over in his hand. The stone was warm to his touch in his hand. The slight up curve to the stone that made it look
like a claw looked familiar. Alex turned and looked at his father.
Ted smiled, “I said I’d give it back to you when I thought you were ready for its power. I don’t know or even care what you were doing for the last few years. I raised you to be a good decent man, and I believe you became one. A good man should be in charge of something like this.”
Alex turned to his dad with a smile on his face. “I appreciate that, Pops.”
“Well, I figure if I can’t figure out how the stone did what it did for twenty years, I ought to let you have a go with it. You’re a helluva lot smarter than your old man, in any case.” Ted slapped his son’s knee as he said that.
Alex smiled as he considered the stone in his hands.
“Try it on.”
Alex, amused by his father’s wild imagination, indulged him and put the necklace around his neck.
“Pop, I seriously doubt it was actually the stone that did anything. More than likely, our collective memories made the accident seem a lot worse than it actually was, and the little blood that there was got on this rag. I mean, healing someone just by touching them?” Alex laughed, “That's more than a little ridiculous, but I get what you're trying to do.”
Ted nodded faintly as he considered his son’s theory. “I’ve been thinking about that day for twenty years, son. I don’t think I’ve misremembered…” It was then that Ted cocked his ear and began to listen towards the sky.
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, and then a few seconds later, he could hear it too. Three large commercial helicopters were flying on a direct course towards him and his father. They began to circle around the mesa. From one of the cockpits, a canister of green smoke dropped out onto the mesa’s flat surface.
“Training out of 29 Palms?” Alex’s father asked him hopefully, the fear evident in his voice.
Alex’s face was ashen. How had they found him? He reached into his backpack and took out a pair of binoculars. Putting them to his face, he was instantly relieved. The people looking for him wouldn’t fly a ritzy helicopter like this.