by Dima Zales
I didn’t recognize it for what it was because I’d been running on my outdated assumptions about the world. Assumptions like ‘you can’t Push a Pusher.’ Only, as evidenced by Kyle following my instructions and getting himself killed, that old adage no longer applies. You can Guide a Guide. You just have to do it from Level 2. If I did it, someone else could’ve done it too. I wanted to delay Kyle’s death long enough for me to Read him and corroborate my suspicions, or better yet, prove myself paranoid, but now it’s too late.
I forgot something else while in the heat of the moment. Even if Kyle were alive, it’s not like I can reach Level 2 at will. This cheers me up a little, and I start walking back to my body.
As I walk, other questions pertaining to this strange new possibility swirl through my mind.
If someone did Push Kyle, who was it? And why? It’s clear Kyle was acting like a bastard on his own most of the time. But something tells me that in this case, he might’ve been unwilling to carry out his mission in this manner. A big public shooting wasn’t Kyle’s usual MO, as Bert would put it. My ‘uncle’ was usually more careful. Prior to today, he’d made sure he was never at the actual scene of the crime and was always careful about concealing his identity when Pushing people.
Then something else dawns on me. If Kyle was influenced, did he deserve to be executed? Was he as guilty as the guy who stabbed me with a pencil? If he was someone’s tool, then he might’ve been innocent.
The thought makes my heart sink.
No, I realize after a moment. This theory doesn’t hold up. Kyle clearly tried to kill Lucy on his own. He didn’t have the signature zealot-like thinking there. Quite the opposite. He felt regret, which he wouldn’t have felt had he been Guided to kill her. Not to mention, when he committed all those other atrocities, he’d had very personal motives, such as love/lust. Motives that only benefitted him. Which means he was guilty enough to get exactly what he received. If anything, justice might’ve been too swift for my taste.
I put the theory of Kyle being Pushed out of my mind. So what if someone forced him to start this massacre? What business is it of mine? It’s not like I’ve been chosen as the protector of the scientific community. Besides, I stopped the shooting, didn’t I? But by stopping this mess, did I make a new enemy? Assuming someone was nudging Kyle to do his dirty work, am I already his enemy? Seems likely, but I have no way to know for sure.
My gaze falls onto my frozen self. There’s a light of realization in his glazed eyes.
“I know, buddy,” I say to myself. “But you were too late.”
I touch my frozen self on the neck and return to the real world.
The dead silence of the Quiet is a stark contrast with the screams of frightened scientists.
Nothing energizes a crowd to move more than the sound of a gunshot.
Everyone scrambles for the exits.
I debate phasing in to calm the crowd, but the commotion will let Thomas and me leave without drawing any attention to ourselves.
I look his way. He abandoned his idea of tackling Victor and is walking along with the frightened stream of conference attendees. I follow his lead and let the wave of people carry me to the exit.
Eventually, I reach Thomas’s car, and he joins me a few minutes later.
“Get in,” he says. “We need to get out of here.”
He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I get in the car, and we pull out of the parking lot.
After we exit the campus, we drive in silence for a while.
“What the hell happened?” Thomas asks. “The knife never made it into your body.”
“So you noticed that?”
“It was hard not to. Also, I don’t think my bullet made Kyle Inert.”
“I don’t think it did either,” I say.
I don’t know how to proceed. I want to tell Thomas everything, but I’m not sure how much I can share about Kyle’s demise. Thomas is his son, after all.
“So?” Thomas presses me. “Are you going to give me an explanation?”
“Yes,” I say, making a quick decision. “I was able to Split, as you would put it, while I was already in the Mind Dimension.”
I go on to tell him about waking up bodiless in the darkness of Level 2, and about my chat with Mimir. He stops me when I get to the part where I Read him.
“You Read me, like Leachers do?” Thomas gives me a wary look. “How far back did you go?”
“I didn’t learn anything particularly private,” I say. I probably should’ve dug a little deeper. Seems like he’s hiding something juicy, because he looks relieved when I tell him I only saw his pained walk through the Quiet.
When I reach the part where I entered Kyle’s mind, Thomas says, “I don’t want to hear any more. Given his strange behavior, I can guess the rest, but I’d rather not know exactly.”
“I’m grateful—”
“Don’t mention it,” he says, and the unspoken words are ‘ever again.’
My phone rings. I look at it.
“Do you mind?” I ask.
“Take it,” he says.
“Hello,” I say.
“Darren, what the fuck?” says Mira’s voice from the other end. She says it so loudly I’m sure Thomas heard her.
“Hello to you too. You sound tense.”
“Tense? You leave me a ‘call me urgently‘ voicemail, and then proceed to ignore my calls and texts. How the fuck should I sound?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I called you from the hospital. My mom nearly died.”
“Oh...” Mira sounds stunned. “I’m so sorry. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine now, and the person responsible... well, this isn’t a phone conversation.”
“Of course.” Mira sounds contrite now.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Stuck in traffic on my way to Manhattan. I didn’t know where you were, but that seemed like a safe start. Plus, that’s where your aunt lives.”
“Have your driver turn around and take you to the Staten Island Hospital. That’s where I’ll be shortly.”
“I’ll see you there,” she says. “Hillary says she’s going too.”
“See you soon.” I hang up.
“I guess you want me to take you to the hospital,” Thomas says.
“Please. And do you mind if I make another phone call?”
“Of course not.”
I click on one of my ‘favorites’ in my phone.
“Darren,” Sara exclaims as soon as the call connects. “Thank God you called.”
“Hi, Mom. How’s she doing?”
“You need to get here as soon as possible and talk some sense into your mother,” Sara says.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“She woke up after a nap and decided she wants to check out. I need you to remind that woman that she was just in critical condition.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Mom,” I say, trying to suppress a grin. “I should be there shortly.”
“Hurry, or else she might actually talk the doctor into it,” Sara says. “Love you, bye.”
“Same to you. Bye,” I say and end the call.
“So, she—Lucy—is feeling better?” Thomas asks.
“Sounds like it. She wants to check out.”
“She sounds like a fighter.” Thomas’s voice is unusually soft. I can hear him drawing in a breath, and then he says, “Darren, listen... there’s something I wanted to ask you. Do you think you could introduce me to her?”
It takes me a second to understand his discomfort. Once it sinks in, I can’t believe how dense I am.
“Of course,” I say. “I should have offered, especially since you just found out she’s your biological mother.”
“You’re sure it’s true?” he asks. “That she’s my mother?”
“Very. But I guess you can get a DNA test if you want to be one-hundred-percent certain.”
“What do you think she’ll think about this whole thing?” he asks.
“To be honest, I have no idea. You have to remember that Kyle prevented her from remembering you exist.”
“I understand.” Thomas’s jaw hardens. “If I told her I’m her son, she wouldn’t even believe me.”
“Maybe not today, but I can’t think of a more healing way to tell her she has a son than to say, ‘You have a son, and here he is.’ When she’s allowed to remember, she’ll want to know what happened to you. We just need to talk to Liz and figure out how to let Lucy remember as gently as possible. Once she remembers she had you, I know she’ll want to meet you.”
“You’re right,” he says. “I can be patient.”
“For now, though, I’ll tell her you’re my new best friend, and we’ll find every excuse for you guys to hang out. Her birthday is coming up...”
“Thank you, Darren. You don’t know how much—”
“Please don’t,” I say. “Not after you had my back, twice now.”
“Sure. I won’t mention it.”
“Plus, we’re sort of related. Isn’t that weird?”
“I think it’s wonderful,” he says. “I never had a sibling, but always wanted one.”
“I wanted one too.” I grin. “In fact, I could’ve used a tough older brother back in school.”
My phone rings again. I look at Thomas apologetically.
“Take it,” Thomas says.
“Dude, how’d it go?” Bert asks from the other end of the phone.
“Good,” I say. “Meet me at the hospital. We’ll talk about it.”
“I’m already here. I suspected this was where you’d go afterwards.”
“You know me so well. Stay put.” I hang up.
“Darren,” Thomas says. “Can you tell me about her?”
“Of course. As you said, she’s a fighter.” And for the remainder of the trip to the hospital, I tell Thomas about Lucy and about her side of the family. I retell her stories of what it was like to immigrate to the US from China as a kid. I tell him about her career as a cop. How much of a pain she was from my perspective when I was growing up. How thrilled my adoptive grandparents on Lucy’s side will be to have another grandson. And how she and Sara met. Thomas absorbs it all with fascination.
In a way, I envy him. I would give anything to be on my way to meeting Margret, my biological mother. But more than that, I’m happy for him, and I’m happy for Lucy. You can’t choose family, they say, but if I could, Thomas would be on the short list of people I wouldn’t mind being related to.
As we park in the Staten Island University Hospital visitors’ parking lot, I use the moment to check my phone. According to the texts I received on the way, the late Miami arrivals are already here. They’re waiting for me in the cafeteria.
“Let’s go check how she’s doing,” I say to Thomas as we get out of the car. “I’ll introduce you.”
Chapter 26
“Mom, this is Thomas,” I say once we confirm she’s feeling better. “He’s a good friend of mine, and like you, he’s also in law enforcement. Sort of.”
“Nice to meet you, Thomas.” Lucy gives him a smile. “Are you from the Third Precinct by any chance?”
“No, ma'am,” he says.
“Maybe from the Fourth then? There’s something familiar about you.”
I say nothing, as tempting as it is. I need to consult Liz about the best course of action.
“I’m in the Secret Service,” Thomas says without blinking an eye. “So work is probably not where you know me from.”
I phase in and have Thomas and Liz join me in the Quiet.
“I’m going to tell you the craziest thing you’ve ever heard,” I say to Liz. In the silence that follows, I tell her about Thomas’s connection to Lucy, and how we need her help to reunite them. “Also, along the way, we’ll need to shield her from the news that Kyle is dead. If you agree that she shouldn’t be put under any extra stress, that is.”
“She should indeed be kept in the dark about Kyle for now,” Liz says and crosses her arms. The unspoken, ‘You shouldn’t have killed Kyle,’ is clearly implied. Though I was vague as to how Kyle died, I have a feeling Liz connected the dots.
“Hiding his death from Lucy will be easy. We can apply a few nudges here and there,” I say. “We can make Lucy lose her phone, and by the time she gets another one, she’ll be in a better place, mentally, to get the news.”
“That could work,” Liz says. “As to her learning about Thomas, you’re right on that count too. Slow and careful is the best approach. I’ll think of the best way to give her the news and run it by both of you.”
“Great. Now I need to chat with Mira and company in the cafeteria.” With that, I walk up to my body and phase out.
“Can I get anyone some food?” I ask. “I’m heading to the cafeteria.”
“I’d love a salad,” Sara says. “Or a light sandwich of some kind.”
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Lucy says. “I want to check out before dinner. I loathe hospital food.”
“Are you sure, Mom?” I ask. “Are you really feeling better?”
“I feel fine,” Lucy says. “And I hate hospitals.”
“Let me see what your doctor thinks about this,” I say. “Please don’t check out until I’m back.”
Lucy rolls her eyes, and I exit the room as Sara jumps into her anti-check-out tirade.
I Read a nearby nurse to learn the location of Dr. Jaint.
As I promised, I Read the good doctor to find out what he thinks about Mom checking out. In his medical opinion, it’s clear she’s fine and checking out would be better than staying; statistically speaking, she has a greater chance of catching some disease here, since hospitals are worse than subway cars when it comes to germs.
That errand done, I find my way to the cafeteria.
As soon as Mira sees me, she runs up to me and rises up to her tiptoes to give me a huge hug. Her unreserved display of affection surprises me. She holds the hug for a few beats and then kisses me. Trying to dispel my confusion, I kiss her back.
“How’s your arm?” I ask, pulling back after a moment.
“Much better,” she says and punches the air to demonstrate. “Eugene’s doing better also. Come say hello.”
“Great to see you,” Eugene says when we reach their table. The black eye Caleb gave him only got worse overnight, but he seems to be in good spirits.
“Bert told us half the story,” Hillary says, her hand mussing Bert’s hair.
“Here’s what happened after he left,” I say and tell them the whole story.
Mira’s face shows a strange emotion at the mention of Victor, but I don’t stop my story to ask her about it; there’ll be time for that later. Since Thomas isn’t here, I don’t omit the role I played in Kyle’s death. I tell them how I Guided Kyle to get in Victor’s sights, and how I Guided Victor to pull the trigger. I even mention my suspicions about Kyle being under someone else’s control, a theory that makes Hillary furrow her brows. Another conversation that’ll have to wait.
“I need to get back,” I say once I’m done. “Got to check on my moms.”
“And then?” Mira asks.
“Then I’ll know what’s what.”
I grab a salad for Sara and make my way to Lucy’s room. The doctor’s there and Lucy’s already in the process of checking out. This development doesn’t surprise me. Lucy always gets her way.
After a brief discussion, the next step is also decided.
We are all cordially invited to a big dinner at my moms’ house.
* * *
Everyone fits at my moms’ dinner table—a remarkable feat.
Amazingly, Thomas’s presence was never questioned. Nor was the fact that he wanted to help Sara with the cooking.
“This stir-fried lettuce is amazing,” Lucy says. “Where did you learn to make it?”
“My adoptive mother taught me,” Thomas says. For the first time since I’ve known the guy, a grin shows up on his stoic face. “She came from China as a teen. She taught me
a lot of authentic recipes.”
“It brings back memories,” Lucy says.
I give Liz a look, and she shakes her head. My mom is obviously talking about her nostalgia for authentic Chinese cuisine. She isn’t remembering that Thomas is her son. I’m just paranoid when it comes to the topic of memory.
I recall something I haven’t shared with my moms yet, and say, “I have an announcement to make.” I wait until I have their attention and continue, “When you met Hillary, I introduced her as Bert’s awesome girlfriend. To save time, though, I didn’t tell you the whole story about her.” I then proceed to tell Lucy and Sara a fictional story about how Bert looked into my biological parents using his computer skills and he connected what he found out about my mom to Hillary. “What I didn’t tell you,” I say in conclusion, “is that Hillary is my aunt.”
A barrage of questions follow, and everyone learns a little about Hillary’s tumultuous upbringing. She doesn’t call her parents Traditionalists when she’s talking to my moms, but she does describe how she and my biological mom rebelled against their very ‘religious’ and overbearing parents. Her story of my idiotic grandparents is a slight downer to an otherwise happy dinner.
“Speaking of how people met,” Sara says. “You’ve never told us where you met this wonderful woman.” She smiles at Mira.
She’s clearly trying to guide the conversation toward a more cheerful topic. I don’t mind, so I say, “It happened—”
“Let me take that one,” Mira says, surprising me. What follows is another fictional account that makes me sound very assertive and macho. In Mira’s version of events, I approached her at a dance club, bought her a drink, told her a funny story, and all in all, swept her off her feet. Then she goes on to tell them how I took her on a trip to Atlantic City the next day, on the spur of the moment. Apparently, I’m very spontaneous too. By the end, she makes me sound like one of those millionaire boyfriends in romance novels. Then again, I am a millionaire. And I am her boyfriend. At least, I think that’s what I am. In any case, my moms gobble up Mira’s story with plenty of oohs and ahhs.