The Wanderer's Children

by L. G. O'Connor

His mother shook her head and chuckled. “You make it sound like I asked you to go clean your room. Would you rather do that?”

  Nope. Video games sounded much better than that.

  He rolled his head and headed into to the hall closet to get his sneakers.

  “Take a jacket, sweetie, there’s a chill in the air today. Must be a storm coming.”

  Michael groaned.

  One of the large double doors cracked open. Roger’s Dad, Dr. Farris, answered the door in workout clothes. He wiped his face with a towel and smiled at him.

  “Hi, Dr. Farris,” Michael mumbled. “Is Roger here?” He pulled his Cubs baseball cap lower on his head and nervously looked past him.

  “Come in,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Roger’s mom took him out for school supplies. He’ll be back in a few minutes. Hang out in the family room until he gets back.”

  Michael stepped into the cavernous hallway which led to a two-story living room. Dr. Farris slung the towel around his neck and led the way. The kitchen and family room were off to the left. Michael could hear the TV get louder the deeper they got into the house.

  A little younger than his father, Dr. Farris was smallish for a man. Michael, although skinny, was already tall for his age at five-foot-three inches. He didn’t have to look up far to see Dr. Farris’s face. Dr. Farris was also rounder than his dad, who had all muscles and no fat. Michael hoped to look like his dad rather than Dr. Farris when he grew up.

  Why did he ask me to come over if Roger isn’t here? Michael wondered, tempted to dip into Dr. Farris’s mind to find out. But he promised his dad he’d really try not to do that.

  Dr. Farris stopped in the kitchen doorway and pointed to the family room. “I’ll bring you a can of pop while you wait. Just turn on whatever channel you like.”

  Michael shrugged and kept going. His mother would be angry if she knew he drank soda. If it wasn’t organic or healthy, his mom didn’t buy it. He hoped it was cola. He loved cola when he could sneak a can.

  Michael grabbed the remote and sank down into the giant sectional. He found the Sponge Bob marathon and smiled.

  “Here you go,” Dr. Farris said, handing him a cold cola and setting down a basket of potato chips on the coffee table.

  Score, he thought.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you. Like I said, Roger should be home any minute now.”

  Michael took a large slog from the can, his fingers chilled from the condensation on the outside. He put it down and grabbed a fistful of chips. Yup, Mom would definitely be mad. The salt hit his tongue in a rush. He grabbed the soda and drank half of it, loving the way it bubbled on his tongue.

  Catching that episode midway through, he watched as it ended and another started.

  Tired, so tired all of a sudden, Michael thought. His vision grew blurry; Sponge Bob turned into a mass of colored blobs, no longer in focus.

  Dreamy, everything feels so dreamy…

  His mouth tasted funny and he slipped into blackness.

  Not asleep, but not awake, his body jostled in someone’s arms as they climbed the stairs.

  Tired, he thought, his eyes fluttered open then shut. Can’t keep my eyes open.

  Bed. He lay on his stomach, his cheek touching a cool sheet. Cinnamon assaulted his nostrils and he drifted off.

  His eyes opened but he couldn’t move as someone slid his pants down his legs. Cool air wafted over his bottom. He tried to open his eyes. They kept closing even though the cinnamon smell made him want to throw up.

  “Shh,” warm breath tickled his ear. “You’re such a pretty boy, Michael. Why did you have to be so pretty?”

  A scream ripped from Michael’s lungs, echoing off the cabin walls inside the plane until the air around him sucked him back into blackness.

  Chapter 70

  MICHAEL

  New York City. Thursday, May 30, 3:00 AM ET

  DAZED, MICHAEL SWAYED on his feet in front of Sienna’s apartment door, preparing to knock. A momentary flash of guilt passed through him for arriving unannounced in the middle of the night. But Michael’s thoughts were too muddled from the sleeping pills to give him serious pause. What he’d learned in the conference room had fractured something inside him and threatened to crack him open.

  He glanced in the mirror across the hall and flinched at his appearance. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes, now slept in and wrinkled, he looked rough and disheveled. For the first time, he didn’t care that he was nowhere near his usual state of fashionably pulled together. All he could think of was burying his face in Sienna’s long black hair, and losing himself inside of her to find relief. Without a second thought, he’d asked the driver to bring him straight here from Teterboro airport.

  He’d never needed anyone like he needed Sienna right now.

  His hand froze halfway to the door.

  I’ve been bad.

  Just like that, the thought poked through. The long-buried memory that had taunted him, hiding at the edge of his consciousness during the plane ride, came crashing down, assaulting his senses. The air rushed from his lungs as it took him back.

  He was five years old. His father had punished him for hurting his sister, Susan. Michael had wanted her to go back to where she’d come from. He didn’t want to share his father. Transported, the scene played like a movie reel in his head.

  Anger bubbled up and burned inside his chest. He wanted to hurt his brothers as much as he had wanted to hurt Susan.

  Shock and shame washed over him. Things suddenly made sense. His shoulders slumped. He’d been bad again. He knew what he needed… to be punished.

  It was my fault. That’s why he didn’t tell his father what had happened… how he’d been hurt by Roger’s father.

  Dr. Farris’s words rang in his memory: “Your father won’t love you anymore after he knows what you did with me. If you tell him, he’ll toss you out like garbage.”

  He’d been bad then too for eating stuff he wasn’t supposed to. If he’d refused the soda, he would’ve been stronger—strong enough to run away from Roger’s father.

  The cloying scent of cinnamon wrapped around him. Controlled, adult Michael fell away as his mind spiraled down and unlocked the Pandora’s Box containing five-year-old Michael’s fear and shame until it consumed him.

  Standing rooted in place, Michael knocked on Sienna’s door.

  SIENNA

  Startled awake at the knocking, Sienna threw off the covers and nearly bolted to the door, wrapping her robe around her as she ran. “Oh, thank God.”

  All night, she’d practically slept with one eye open, hoping—no praying—that Cara was right. That Michael would come to her.

  Sienna was still reeling from her conversation with Cara yesterday afternoon, starting with Michael’s meltdown after he’d found out he had secret older siblings—brothers, and ending with his immediate disappearance.

  At least Michael’s father had the good taste to have his illegitimate children before he married Michael’s mother, Sienna had thought. From what Michael had told her, he’d had a close relationship with his father and his death had hit him hard. She could only imagine how devastated he must’ve been when he’d heard the news.

  “I’m almost positive he’s headed to you, Senny,” Cara had said.

  After that tidbit, Cara had dropped an even bigger bombshell…

  “What might happen to me when?” Sienna snapped, her heart thundering in her chest.

  “This is an open line, so I can’t give you a lot of details,” Cara had said, distraught. “It’s like what happened to me in Connecticut. Remember?”

  How could Sienna forget Cara’s amazing light show at the Farmhouse? It kicked off their cross-country trek to save Kai and his daughter.

  “Tell me again, what I am?” Sienna said, nervously rubbing her forehead.

  “A Soul Seeker, Senny,” Cara replied. “You’re like me but your gift may be different. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone—it could put you
in jeopardy—and stay away from anyone who looks like a homeless woman.”

  “What? Why?” Sienna asked, overwhelmed.

  “Long story. Zeke will watch over you for now. Think of him as your own private security guard. You won’t see him, but he’s there. I’d be there too if I could, but Kai’s got some, um, medical concerns… they won’t let me leave the Sanctuary until they get a handle on them.”

  “Oh shit, now I’m going to worry about you, too,” Sienna wailed.

  “I’ll be fine. Just call me if Michael shows up or if you’re Called.”

  Sienna sniffed. “Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know after me.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t be there for you, Senny. I really am, but please trust me. You’re more important than you know.”

  Cara left her with a few more surreal tidbits of information and hung up.

  Sienna looked through the security peephole, and breathed a sigh of relief to see Michael standing on the other side.

  Her fingers flew over the locks and chains. She flung open the door. “Michael—”

  Her relief evaporated the moment she spotted the dazed look in his bloodshot eyes. She’d expected him to be upset but nothing like this. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Propped up against the doorframe, he could barely stand.

  Broken. That’s how he looked, and it shook her.

  “Come in.” Pulling the robe more tightly around herself, she took his limp hand and led him inside. She gave a quick look around the hallway. No suitcase? She locked the door with a pounding heart, her internal alarms ringing.

  He looked drugged. “Did you take something, baby?” she asked, examining his eyes more closely. His pupils were glassy and dilated.

  “Some sleeping pills,” he replied in a small voice she barely recognized.

  Oh my God, she thought. “When? How many did you take?” she asked softly, fighting down panic.

  “Three. Before I got on the plane.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. She needed to do something; at least getting his stomach pumped wasn’t one of them.

  Think quick, she thought. Shower. He’d want a shower if he was in his normal state of mind. It would buy her some time. Seeing her sexy, always-in-control Michael like this pierced her heart and sent a tremor straight to her soul.

  Then it hit her.

  She’d claimed him.

  Mine. A fierce protectiveness welled up inside her. He was hers, and she wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She’d make this better.

  Seeing Michael like this, Sienna wondered if there was more to it than the revelation about his siblings. Taking a deep breath, she prayed for strength to deal with whatever he threw at her.

  She guided him into the bedroom, and then slowly removed his clothes down to his underwear.

  He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Senny, I need you.”

  Her breath hitched. He’d never called her by her nickname before. Those four words touched her heart, meaning more than he could ever realize.

  Putting his hands on either side of her face, he lowered his mouth onto hers, kissing her gently at first, and then with a growing insistence.

  Metallic residue from the pills hit her taste buds.

  She pulled away and asked softly, “When was the last time you ate?”

  He dropped his hands, his desire dampening. “Sometime yesterday, maybe,” he said, his voice dull and lifeless.

  “Wait here for me.” She sat him on the edge of the bed, and he drifted off again, somewhere inside his head.

  She rounded the corner and ran straight to her fridge and the stock of protein shakes she kept for her hypoglycemia. She grabbed one.

  Please, Lord, help me through this night, she thought.

  The refrigerator door blew shut, and an unseen force of energy came slamming down from above, shooting outward through her body. She stood frozen in place, wrapped in a blinding white light.

  Her Calling, just as Cara had described it, whipped through Sienna’s body.

  A cyclone of energy propelled her spirit upward. Soft, harmonious voices caressed and surrounded her, lifting her higher with every note. Increasing in velocity as it came down through the crown of her head, the energy traveled through her heart and radiated out of every pore, leaving confidence in its wake. Her arms rose involuntarily from her sides.

  Angelic music played inside her head, and a voice spoke, standing out over the melodic song. It addressed her silently but clearly. “You have been chosen. Do you accept your place as a servant of a Trinity?”

  Sienna answered with the words Cara told her that she should use, “Yes, I accept my place.”

  The disembodied voice continued. “Blessed be your journey. Hold holy your Center Stone.” Two threads of energy struck her from above, rattling her teeth as they entered her crown. Her body shook violently as the two separate strands vibrated like dissonant piano wires down the length of her, nearly knocking her off of her feet. The strands entwined and spun, picking up velocity until they reached hurricane force and merged in harmony. As Sienna thought her body would shatter from the pressure, the kinetic frenzy peaked, exploding outward and covering the inside of her skin in a gentle molecular rain. Michael’s image danced in her mind. The buzzing inside her skin was Michael’s frequency—how he felt at the cellular level. Her essence was connected to his.

  The music reached a melodic crescendo, and slowly the light faded, returning Sienna to full consciousness. When the voices and the buzzing were gone, she swayed on her feet with the protein shake still clutched in her hand. The bills that had been on the kitchen counter fluttered to the ground.

  Okay, that was super weird… in a good way, Sienna thought. Funny, she didn’t feel any different. Gathering her wits, she raced back to the bedroom… and Michael.

  Chapter 71

  SIENNA

  REMOVING THE LID, she handed the shake to Michael. “Drink this.”

  Without protest, he drank the contents. She discarded the empty can on her nightstand and guided him into the bathroom.

  Sienna turned on the hot water.

  “Is it all right if I take off your underwear?”

  He nodded. That was good. At least he was lucid enough to understand her. She slid his Calvin Klein briefs down his legs. He stepped out of them without being asked, and stood naked and beautiful before her.

  Wearing nothing underneath her robe, Sienna dropped it to the floor, then coiled and secured her long jet black hair into a bun on the top of her head. The last thing she needed was a thirty-minute date with her blow dryer. She didn’t want to leave Michael alone for even a second.

  Stepping behind the shower curtain into the tub, she guided him in behind her.

  Michael stood stock still as she washed him, gliding the soapy shower pouf over his body.

  I can do this, she thought. I need to be strong. He’d trusted her by coming here, and that was everything. He was her Center Stone and she somehow had the power to heal him. She wished she knew what that meant. Even after her kitchen experience, it wasn’t clear.

  “Senny?” he said softly.

  She looked up, his blue eyes locking on hers. “What is it, baby?”

  “I feel numb inside.”

  The shattered look in his eyes wrenched her insides. “Can you tell me what happened? Why you feel numb?”

  “I’ve been bad,” he replied softly, childlike.

  His words sent a chill through her. “Why would you say that? You’re very good in every way,” she said, feeling like a mother speaking to a child.

  “No, Senny, I’m not. I’ve done bad things.” Tears welled in his eyes and his lower lip quivered.

  Sienna swallowed past the dry lump in her throat. “Let’s dry off, and then you can tell me what you did, okay?”

  He nodded.

  She toweled herself down and then turned the towel on him. The strength of his body juxtaposed with his fragile state of mind both broke her heart and built her r
esolve.

  Her next move was to get him into bed to sleep this off… unless there was some divine intervention on its way to unlock this mysterious gift she had. She slipped him into the robe she’d bought for him that hung on the back of the door and led him back to the bedroom.

  Before he reached the bed, he said, “I’ll be right back.” For a moment, his voice returned to its normal masculine timbre. A spark of hope ignited inside her. Maybe he’d be all right after all.

  She sat on the bed and waited.

  He returned carrying her father’s old wooden fraternity paddle she kept hanging on her living wall among a montage of college and sporting memorabilia. The clubby décor reminded her of the library in the house she grew up in.

  She gasped, her eyes widening in panic. “Why do you have that?”

  His slumped shoulders and the look in his eyes—a mixture of sadness, resolve, and shame—stole her breath.

  Dropping his robe, he stood naked before her and handed her the paddle. “Senny, I need to feel pain so that I don’t feel numb anymore.”

  Too shocked to speak, Sienna’s breath returned in tiny pants.

  Her hand moved on autopilot, taking the paddle and placing it on the bed beside her. She bit back the urge to scream, forcing herself to remain calm. That didn’t stop the vein in her neck from pulsing wildly.

  Keep it together, Sienna, she told herself. Don’t break his trust.

  “Why do you want me to hurt you, Michael?”

  “Please? Do this for me?” he begged.

  Fearing he would break if she refused, she bit her lip and nodded.

  “Sit back farther,” he whispered, hanging his head. She shifted toward the middle of the bed so her feet no longer touched the ground.

  He lay naked on his stomach across her lap, his generous front pressed down on the tops of her legs through her robe. She stared down at his perfectly smooth and muscled backside.

  “Please, Now.” He looked at her, the side of his face resting on the bed.

  Her hand crept slowly toward the paddle. Part of her would’ve felt better if his request was for sexual pleasure, even though that wasn’t really her thing. But his reason was darker and much deeper. She couldn’t escape the shame that rolled off him, striking a chord inside her.