The Knowers (The Exiled Trilogy)

by Merry Brown

  Taking a deep breath and then blowing it out, she said matter-of-factly, “Will, you’re a really sweet guy, but we can’t be together.”

  I could hear what she was saying but the buzzing in my ears made it hard to concentrate.

  She was leaving me, as she should. Why should such a lovely creature be doomed to the fate that was sure to reach her if she stayed with me, got close – closer– to me? I knew for her to be in my life was an impossibility. Why had I even gone down this path? I knew the outcome before I ever asked her out.

  I knew she should leave me and I should want her to. But I was too drawn to her; her pull was overwhelming. I thought she felt the impossible bond we shared. In fact, in that moment, I could see she knew we were meant to be together. She, who had such clear vision, she knew.

  “No,” I said as the desperation started to grab me. “Why are you saying this?”

  She sat across the table staring at me, thinking of what she was doing. She didn’t want to be apart from me anymore than I wished her to leave.

  “Will, this is not what I’m about. I’ve devoted my whole life to the service of others. My mission in life is to . . . .” She looked like she said too much, but I wasn’t letting go.

  “To do what? It’s right to care about others, but what about yourself, your happiness?”

  “I’m a being for others. I get joy out of helping others – that’s what fills me up.”

  “You get joy from being with me.”

  “You and I, honestly, don’t work together. I’ve been spending too much time and energy with you and consequently neglecting the others. It’s not fair . . . not right.”

  “Lizzy, it’s okay to have a life of your own. It’s not normal or . . . or healthy to get so wrapped up in the affairs and problems of others.”

  “It is for me; it’s what I am.” Her face turned stubborn.

  I started pleading. “We belong together. We can give to others together, as a team. A kind of united front.” I could do that. I could share my time with her.

  “I don’t think so,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “But I love you Lizzy. I don’t know what’s really going on with you – won’t you tell me?”

  She responded with silent tears.

  “I can wait. I can be patient. If you have to spend less time with me, that’s fine. I love you Elizabeth Colby and I know you love me too. Do you deny it?” I asked point blank.

  “No.”

  “Then we can work this out, together. We can.”

  “Stop Will,” she interrupted. “This is hard for me. What I’m trying to tell you is we can’t be together. It’s just too . . . dangerous,” she said in a whisper.

  Almost any other reason she could’ve given I would’ve protested. But this? She was absolutely right. Being with me was too dangerous for her. It was more than I could or would ask of her.

  Seeing my defeated face she took my hand. “I’m so sorry Will.” Tears continued to spill down her cheeks.

  “Please, don’t go,” I said as she let go of my hand to stand up. I reached out and grabbed her hand to keep her here.

  As I did, she pulled away slightly and the sleeve of her shirt inched up revealing massive yellowish bruises on her forearm.

  Shock spread across my face. She wore the same expression.

  I still had her hand and carefully pushed her sleeve higher up. Her entire arm was covered in bruises that looked to be days old, in the healing process.

  I took her other arm and pushed up the sleeve. It had the same nasty yellow and brown bruises.

  Her tears stopped. She took her arms back, scooped up her jacket and all but ran to her car.

  I was almost too stunned to move. Almost. I was not going to let her go without an explanation.

  I caught up with her as she started her car.

  “Who did this to you?” I demanded.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said softly.

  I didn’t even know what I thought. Was she being hurt at home? Is that why I’d never been to her house and met her family?

  “I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s going on. I will not tolerate someone hurting you!”

  It was excruciating. I remembered the night at the gas station and how I felt when I saw the one bruise. I was ready to take someone out.

  “You don’t understand, and I can’t explain it to you.”

  “Try Lizzy. Try. I’m here. I can help you, no matter what’s wrong.”

  “Please, Will, just leave me alone. I’m sorry we can’t be together, as anything more than friends. I’m so sorry, more than you’ll ever know.” Her face was full of concern for me, but she had made her decision. No amount of pleading was going to change that, for the moment at least.

  I stood there, holding her door open.

  “Will, you’ve got to let me go.”

  I couldn’t think anymore. I was beyond the ability to process anything else. I took a step back and watched helplessly as she drove away.

  I walked, zombie-like, to my car and drove home. I got in the shower and blasted myself with hot water until my skin burned. I went to my room, pulled my head phones on and stared at the ceiling in the darkness.

  How could this be my fate? The world had been cruel to me. It couldn’t keep taking and taking, could it? No – there was nothing left to take from me.

  I was sure Lizzy was some great reward from the universe; some way it could repay me for my misery.

  She was beyond good, more than . . . more than real.

  And now she’d said no to me. No for reasons I don’t know.

  She loved me and I loved her. Wasn’t that enough?

  Maybe she didn’t put much stock in the power of love? - False. She did. She, more than anyone I knew or would ever know, believed love is powerful, the most transcendent of all that exists – definitely worth fighting for.

  So why wasn’t she fighting?

  Was she afraid of the ramifications of being with me because of my father? Possibly. I’d told her enough about him that she should truly be afraid to be in a relationship with me.

  But Lizzy didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. And besides, she’s known all along who my father was; why would it bother her now?

  Chapter Eleven: Avoidance

  The morning came too early today. I maybe got two hours of sleep last night. I made up my mind several times to drive to her house in the middle of the night to get to the bottom of this.

  I googled her, searched the Internet, but got nothing.

  My alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. and I considered throwing it across the room when I remembered the plan of action I settled on at 4 a.m. I would wait for her in the parking lot this morning.

  I showered, dressed, ate breakfast, and was in my car in under ten minutes. I was filled with adrenaline. First, I was going to make her see reason about us, and second, I would find out who had hurt her – and make them pay. For that I would use my father’s vast resources.

  I waited until after the last bell rang, but she was nowhere to be found.

  I looked for her all day, hoping she’d show up. Maybe she’d gone to the doctor but would come to school after her appointment? No such luck.

  Friday – nothing

  Saturday – more nothing, not even a phone call.

  By Saturday night I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I was really starting to worry for her safety.

  If someone was hurting her, maybe they’d gone too far and she was in trouble. Why would anyone want to hurt someone as good as Lizzy? I was too furious to think straight. I’d been reading and rereading the same stupid paragraph for nearly an hour: yet another night of homework that would go unfinished. I couldn’t concentrate.

  If she wasn’t at school on Monday, I would find her. I’d start by attempting to sweet-talk Ms. Cheshire, the school secretary. If that didn’t work, I was resolved to resort to threats.

  As I pulled into the school parking lot, I
saw her getting out of her car. I wondered what she’d do. Would she run away from me? Continue to avoid me? Pretend like nothing happened? Any of these reactions sounded reasonable for an average teenage girl, but Lizzy was anything but average.

  Just to prove me right she walked straight over to me as I got out of my car.

  “Good morning Will. How are you this lovely day?”

  “Lizzy, where have you been? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. I had some family business to attend to.”

  “Fine?” I asked as I took her arm and pulled up her sleeve. I was about to say and what do you call this! but there was nothing there but her lovely olive skin. Not one mark or blemish.

  “Your arms . . . what happened to the bruises?”

  “I told you Will, I bruise easily, no big deal.”

  “But who gave them to you? Lizzy, I’m worried about you. Why won’t you let me help you?”

  I could see how moved she was by my affection. The strangest expression lit her face -like she was happy with me- but that’s not the emotion I wanted to illicit right now. I’d been put off too long and I wanted answers.

  “Will, you’ve blown this whole thing way out of proportion. I’m fine, really. I’m not in trouble and no one is hurting me. I really do appreciate your concern on my behalf, but there’s nothing wrong. Honest.”

  It was clear she was telling the truth. Telling the truth and yet concealing something. Something she didn’t want me to know.

  At least she was here and appeared to be fine. Concern number one down. Now to my next issue: us.

  She turned to walk towards the auditorium. I knew this wasn’t the best time to have an intimate conversation about the status of our relationship, but this was the time and place I was given.

  I stopped her before we entered the building and pulled her around to the courtyard.

  “Lizzy, I just have to know. How do you feel about me?”

  She flushed, not expecting this conversation minutes before Senior Seminar began, or my bluntness.

  Composed, she answered, “Will, nothing has changed. You know I care deeply for you, too much truthfully, which is why I must insist on being friends with you only.”

  “Please, Lizzy, help me understand. I love you. I am not ashamed of my feelings and I don’t want to hide them from you or anyone. I know you love me too . . . and you know I know that. You and I, we are connected in a way I thought impossible for two people to be. It’s not some base attraction . . . it’s so much more, and powerful, and amazing. So tell me, why . . . how can you say we shouldn’t be together?”

  The bell rang and she jumped. She was absorbing all I was saying, and the truth of it was confirmed on her angelic face.

  “I wish I could explain in a way you could understand, or at least accept. I am a being for others . . . I’m not meant to be devoted to one, but to all my brothers and sisters, the whole human family. This must sound crazy to you, but it’s all I can say. Will, if you do love me, please listen to me. We can’t be anything more than friends.” She took a deep breath, “I don’t know how it’s even possible that I find myself in this situation, loving you. I’ve always been so careful,” she said more to herself than to me.

  “I don’t want to be just friends.” My heart swelled as her words loving you reverberated through my brain.

  “But that’s the reality. Friends or nothing. We should get to class.”

  I trailed behind her, my mind lost again, looping through the conversation over and over, trying to make sense of the insensible. I could feel the blood running from my body, turning me ice cold.

  I was really stuck. I knew myself. I couldn’t just be friends with her, but I couldn’t not be friends either.

  She kept her word. She treated me like everyone else. She no longer tried to avoid me, but she didn’t pay special attention to me either.

  I decided to ask her to meet me after work at the music store to jam. “Friends play music together, right?” I was hoping she’d say yes but was not surprised when she turned me down. I was surprised, however, when she showed up at game night at John’s on Friday.

  My heart was elated to see her, but she barely gave me the time of day. This was not unusual at game night because she was hanging out with the girls. But it still stung.

  As the next week of school progressed, I watched her. Watched her be true to her word. She treated me like a friend. I wanted to cut my heart out.

  Chapter Twelve: Guys Night Out

  John called Thursday night with the news that he and Michael were free and ready for band practice on Saturday. It’d been far too long since we played together. Not much really helped to bring me out of the depression I was falling under, but time with my best friends felt like a lifeline.

  They came over around 1 o’clock with all their gear in tow. As soon as John set his kit up he was smashing away at it. We followed suit.

  We ran through our songs, one after another, without a break. We sounded pretty decent, even though it’d been months since we practiced. Maybe it was the time away, but for some reason we were tracking with each other, in sync.

  Once we went through our stuff, we moved to our favorite covers, opting for the ruckus ones. We were loud. It’s a good thing my neighbors weren’t close, and no one was around to be annoyed or pull the plug.

  I looked up to see it was already 6 o’clock - we’d been playing for 5 hours straight. It was time for a break and Rusty’s pizza.

  This was what normal felt like: with my best friends, exhausted from playing and singing my broken heart out, joking around and eating at our favorite restaurant. I missed normal. Would I ever feel normal again?

  “So, I’m glad you’re still with us, but, it’s a Saturday night. Where’s Hannah?” I asked and then wished I hadn’t. Michael and Hannah were a reminder that he was with the one he loved, and I wasn’t.

  “The girls are having a slumber party at Katie’s house. I think she invited 20 girls. I’d sure like to be a fly on that wall. On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know what they really talk about.”

  John was laughing, thinking no doubt of dozens of girls sitting around, brushing each other’s hair, eating junk food and talking trash about boys and girls who weren’t there.

  “Did John tell you who he’s dating?” Michael said as he hit John on the shoulder. I had no idea. He hadn’t talked much about girls after his messy break-up with Sue last year.

  “Yeah, I’ve been seeing Katie for a couple of weeks now.”

  “Katie?” I asked with surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I thought you might be a little mad about it. I know she kind-of had a thing for you. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. I know your crazy rules about dating and so you wouldn’t ask her out even if you were interested. So . . .” John trailed off.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like that with Katie and me. We really are just friends. She’s great, you know. You better treat her right.” I couldn’t help but wonder if her newfound self-respect would keep her from sleeping with John.

  “She is great. She’s easy to be with and makes me laugh. And, well, she is obviously hot.” We all nodded in agreement.

  “How are you and Hannah doing?” I asked Michael.

  They both looked at me like I sprouted a second head.

  “What?” I asked puzzled and a bit defensive.

  “You never ask about Hannah. I always got the impression you’d rather forget about her, pretend she doesn’t exist when the three of us are together.”

  That was a fair assessment. I have resented Hannah, just like I resented Sue’s presence in John’s life when she was around. Girls got in the way. Girls took my friends away from me. I much preferred it when they were single and we could hang out without any outside interference.

  I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ve always resisted whatever eats into our time hanging out together. What can I say? You already know I
’m a selfish jerk,” I said with a smile.

  They laughed.

  “Since you brought it up, things are great. She is amazing. Dude, I don’t know what to say, how to put her into words. Anything I say will sound corny and make me look like I’m whipped. But really, I love her.” Maybe I didn’t want to hear this.

  “Sounds serious,” I said as I looked down, spiraling into my own misery.

  “Yeah. We’re planning to go to Loyola Marymount together next year. It’s not like we’re about to get married, but honestly, I can’t picture any future that doesn’t include her.”

  “Do you think she feels the same?” John asked.

  “Yes . . . but sometimes she’s so hard to figure out. We’ll be out on a date and I’ll think everything is going great and she’ll burst into tears. Or, I’ll think all is as it should be and she’ll give me the silent treatment. I try to put things back together, but it’s really hard to do when I don’t even know what caused the problem in the first place!”

  “Girls,” John said, as if that was a sufficient reason to explain Hannah’s unexplainable behavior.

  “They look human, act human, and usually track with the rest of us, but then something will happen and they freak out,” Michael said with real frustration.

  “It’s like we live in the same world, and we don’t. Like their world is different from ours. My mom read this book a long time ago called Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. She swears it’s true. When I was younger I thought she meant it literally—like they came from outer space. But now I know what she means, and she’s right. Girls appear to be understandable, but that’s appearance. They are essentially other.” This was the deepest thing I’d ever heard from John.

  “But aren’t we glad they aren’t just like us? I mean, Hannah can be so frustrating, but I like that she is mysterious. I like thinking about her and trying to unravel her mystery, how she works.”

  “Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, it all goes up in smoke. Yeah, I like some mystery, but sometimes it’s just not worth it.” And I knew John was talking about Sue. Sue was so erratic. I was glad they weren’t together anymore.