Pulse of Heroes

by A. Jacob Sweeny

  “Hmm.” Michelle was bitter. Haneul ignored her frown and showed her that he was wearing a similar pearl earring on the top part of his ear. “We had to go through thousands of oysters to find just a few. I wear this one for luck. And memory.”

  “Good memory, I hope?” Michelle didn’t have the heart to be mad at him too. Haneul’s face broke out into a wide smile and he told her in an excited voice about how he, Elliot, and Mikoto had gone diving for the rare black pearls in the Tahitian sea. He told her that at first they did it out of boredom, for a sport, but that they eventually made lots of money.

  Ando must have heard Haneul talking and peeked his head around the corner just as Michelle was telling Haneul that it was precisely those memories that forbade her from keeping the necklace. They were Elliot’s memories, not hers. “I have to go,” she said when she saw Ando, and she closed Haneul’s hand around the pearls. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

  Michelle walked out of the bedroom, looking back one more time before descending the stairs. Would she ever return to the same room and sit on that bed, gazing at Elliot’s beauty while listening to all his amazing stories? Michelle followed Ando towards the front door when Kahl called her name, hurrying down the hallway. He smiled at her warmly and put his hands on her shoulders. Michelle tried not to meet his eyes, because his pity would only make her cry again.

  “Michelle, you are a beautiful young woman. It is very difficult for you to understand us, but trust me when I tell you that Elliot is hurting too. I am very familiar with his mind. You need to take the good memories you had with him and treasure them. He is a difficult person to get close to, and you were able to. You two had something. Elliot doesn’t want you to waste your time on him, none of us do. We’ve all been there.” Ando nodded in agreement.

  Kahl continued, “It’s so hard to convince humans that their time is so tragically short, especially when they are young like you.” Michelle felt the tears gathering once again. It was so uncomfortable having all of them know how she felt, let alone the awful parting they had seen her have with Elliot. She gritted her teeth together and held her composure.

  “So I just stop? Forget him? And move on… I don’t know how to do that Kahl. I haven’t had thousands of years of practice like he has.” Michelle walked out the door.

  Part II

  Chapter 13

  “I’ll only be gone for two weeks,” Michelle said, trying to sound positive over the noise of the buzzing fan. Francesca explained to Michelle that she hung the wet towel in front of it because it kept the air moist and helped keep the house cooler. Francesca didn’t like to turn on the air conditioner. The cold air gave her headaches, and besides it dried the skin.

  “I don’t need any more wrinkles at my age,” she joked. “Did you bring me photographs from your party?” Francesca asked. That’s right. Michelle had promised that she would bring some photos from the prom because Francesca was adamant about seeing her in her pretty dress. But her sudden uneasiness showed through and Francesca asked if she had gotten into a fight with her date. Michelle nodded, but downplayed the events of the night. Michelle told her that it was great and that they only fought at the end. Unfortunately, that was why she didn’t have any photos taken.

  “Actually, there is one photo but it’s in my mom’s camera. I forgot about it. I’m sorry.” Francesca told her that maybe she could see it when Michelle got back from her trip.

  When Francesca had first heard about Michelle’s trip to Hungary she said she was happy and excited for her, but now her eyes were telling a different story. Michelle waved her finger the way Francesca always did to her. “Are you telling me the whole truth?” Michelle said, encouraging her to just tell her what it was that was bothering her. Eventually, Francesca whispered that she was just a little sad because Michelle would be missing her birthday next week. Michelle felt bad, but of course there wasn’t anything that could be done about it.

  “It’s ok, it’s not really important. Just an old lady turning older,” Francesca sighed.

  “Why don’t we celebrate now instead?” Michelle said standing up. “It doesn’t matter that we’re a few days ahead, does it?” Francesca thought about that for a moment, and a smile began to spread across her face.

  “I guess it doesn’t. But what shall we do. We have no plans?”

  “Lets go to the ice cream parlor and get ice cream cakes. It’s so hot anyway, it would be perfect,” Michelle said smiling. Francesca’s eyes got their spark back and she got herself ready to go in no time.

  Michelle ordered one of the mini birthday cakes and the man behind the counter was nice enough to bring it to their table with four burning candles. Michelle began singing happy birthday and everyone at the place joined her, including the little children that were there with their parents. Francesca blew out the candles and thanked everybody, especially Michelle.

  “Did you make a wish?” Michelle asked her once everything had quieted back down.

  “Of course, dear,” Francesca answered, leaning across the table to confide. “I asked God to let my Renzo see how happy I’ve been now that we’ve been able to take his car out and go places.”

  Michelle wasn’t surprised that Toby couldn’t find the time to join the family on the trip to Hungary, but that didn’t stop her from feeling hurt and disappointed.

  “It’s like he’s not even part of us anymore,” she complained to her father.

  “I didn’t realize you missed him so much, Michelle?” he answered in surprise.

  “I don’t. It’s just annoying that he starts dating this girl and all of a sudden we don’t even exist.” Her father reminded her that Toby did visit them for Thanksgiving but Michelle rebuffed him, insisting that it was a short visit and besides, all he wanted to do all weekend was hang out with his girlfriend alone. Was she jealous? Michelle wondered if she was perhaps envious that Toby had someone and she was all by herself?

  “Maybe we should have more children Ron,” Michelle’s mother said as she walked in on the conversation. Michelle looked at her mom, completely disturbed.

  “You’re kidding, right?” she said in disgust. But her father took the bait and stood up from his armchair, hooking his arm around her mother’s waist.

  “No, we’re not kidding. We’ve already discussed it. It’s not like we haven’t noticed you moping around. Maybe a new baby in the house will help brighten all our lives.” Michelle looked at her parents in revulsion.

  “Gross!” she yelled at them. “I don’t want some poopy-diaper baby running around, and besides you’re too old.”

  “Oh?” her mother replied, injured. “I have a friend who just got pregnant for the first time and she’s forty-two.” Michelle looked at her mom. She still looked like she was in her thirties. But the image of her parents actually doing it made her ill, so she got up and told them that she was going upstairs to barf, after which her parents looked at one another and began laughing hysterically.

  Did she really look that miserable? For the first few days after the prom she had held herself together because she was determined not to shed one more tear over that jerk. She should have never gotten close to him after the first time he took off; that was her mistake. If he didn’t see anything wrong in just leaving without saying a word to her, then there was no way that he even remembered her anymore, and he was probably somewhere far away living his real life, the life that she had been distracting him from. But things changed after Sam and James took off on a trip together to go check out college campuses.

  That evening Michelle sat in her backyard just staring in the direction of Hekademos when, out of nowhere, she burst out in wails. The wails turned to gasps, and before she knew it she was vomiting into the downstairs toilet. Throwing up made her cry even more because she was upset that Elliot had now actually made her physically ill. She so wanted to stop, but the more she tried to hold it in, the louder she got. She wanted to scream and eventually she did just that, throwing herself on the bed and beati
ng her fists into her pillow. When at last she ran out energy, she felt horrible about the things that had come out of her mouth. She didn’t hate Elliot. She just hated being away from him.

  It was 4:15 AM and the Andrews family had to be at the San Francisco airport at least three hours before their departure. Michelle got dressed in a dream-like state. By the time their car hit Highway 101 South, the sun was just barely peeking through the eastern skyline. Michelle spread herself out in the back seat and turned on her MP3 player. She couldn’t help but feel sadder the further they drove from Willow’s Creek. She felt as if she was moving further away from Elliot, and now the pain of physical separation was sharpened. She’ll never see him again. What if she loses even the memories? Can she remember his face? A tiny tear rolled down her cheek. But then again, she was exhausted and the sun was forcing its light underneath her shut eyelids. Michelle’s mother hadn’t asked much about Elliot. The way she saw it, Elliot was some guy that her daughter knew and was perhaps even interested in, but since Michelle hadn’t mentioned Elliot once before the prom, she didn’t think much of it when she didn’t mention him afterwards.

  Michelle had never been on a flight longer than five hours, and even that was too long for her. This time they were going to be in the air for over fourteen hours, but with the stopovers in Chicago and Zurich the whole trip ended up being closer to twenty! Michelle was definitely disturbed by the idea of being locked up for that long in a small metal capsule high up in the sky, let alone being stuck with her parents the whole time. By the time the first leg of the trip was over her feet were already swollen and her neck was sore, and to make matters even worse she started her period on the plane.

  The second leg of the trip was more uplifting. The Swiss plane was much bigger and the smell of chocolate emanated from the food stations and down the aisles. The extra-friendly flight attendants served everybody hot cocoa and butter cookies dipped in chocolate, of course. And then every meal was followed by more… chocolate. Chocolate was the best drug that God had invented, Michelle marveled, as she began feeling that floating sensation one gets after eating the good stuff. She sipped her cocoa happily; it put the one served at her school cafeteria to shame. Looking around at the rest of the passengers, Michelle could have sworn that they all looked like they were smiling as well. One of her last thoughts before falling asleep was that it should be mandatory to serve chocolate on all flights.

  The plane landed in Budapest in the middle of the night, but Michelle and her parents were just glad to be on the ground. They were all worn out and obviously a bit punchy with one another, but managed to make it to their overnight hotel which was nice enough with its foreign décor. They were ready for a few good hours of sleep before the drive out to Abony where Eranka lived.

  There weren’t too many people in line at the beautifully displayed breakfast buffet. Michelle was up early and felt a little strange being in a foreign country without her parents by her side, but they still were sound asleep. She surveyed the food more closely. There were all the standards like eggs and fruits, but a little farther down the table there was a vast array of salamis and cured meats. What really caught Michelle’s eyes were the pastry trays; dozens of different types, fresh and fluffy, stacked up on top of each other. Michelle could tell that they were awesome just by looking at them. She wanted to sink her teeth into each and every one, but managed to choose just two, a chocolate strudel and another one with sweet poppy seed filling oozing out of its sides. Michelle found a comfortable corner table from which she could observe all the comings and goings. Judging from the attire of the few people there, it was obvious that the place was somewhat of a business hotel. Most everyone was in a suit and carrying a briefcase or laptop. Even the couple of women who were there wore skirts and blouses that looked like work attire.

  While enjoying the amazingly chunky strawberry preserves, Michelle watched two girls that looked to be about her same age walk into the room and line up at the buffet. One girl was quite thin with very bright yellow hair, while the other had wavy hair similar to Michelle’s. The girls laughed and giggled and Michelle realized how lonely she really felt. Before Samantha left on her trip with James, Michelle had made sure to tell her to e-mail her because that was going to be her only mode of communication until she got back.

  There was a computer room right across from the dining hall, and Michelle settled into one of the large black leather chairs. She looked at the screen and clicked on the familiar icon for Internet. The window opened up to the home page, no problem, except that it was all in Hungarian. Michelle looked for anything that looked like the word ‘English’, and eventually spied the little British flag icon and clicked it. The window went black, then returned to the original home page. No, this can’t be happening she thought, and clicked the British flag again, only to have the same exact thing happen. Irritated, Michelle tried the next computer down the line and couldn’t even get it to turn on. She jumped out of her seat completely frustrated and even thought about kicking the thing a few times, but she stopped herself out of courtesy to the foreign country. She needed to find someone who could help her, but who?

  Just then the girls from the breakfast room walked in and startled her. They looked at one another, then the yellow haired girl said something to her friend and walked up to Michelle, asking her in a thick accent if she was American. Michelle felt embarrassed, wondering what it was that gave it away. She didn’t say anything in English, and she wasn’t wearing anything that screamed USA on it, but somehow they still knew. “Yes I am,” she answered shyly.

  “I am Vilna, or Veli, it doesn’t matter,” the girl said, showing a smile of smallish teeth. She shook Michelle’s hand and the other girl introduced herself as Marika. Vilna offered to help Michelle with the computer, and in no time she was on the Internet reading her e-mail. Michelle asked the girls if they were from Hungary and Marika, who hardly spoke any English, replied in Hungarian. Vilna translated.

  “She says she from Buda but she wants to know if you’re Hungarian because you look like you could be it?” Michelle took that statement as a compliment because she thought Marika was very pretty. She smiled at her and told the girls that she was from America, but that she was half Hungarian and half Irish. Vilna told Michelle that although she could speak Hungarian, she was actually Ukrainian and Romanian and had just flown in to visit Marika. “We wanted to get some food so we came here. Everyone knows they have good breakfast here,” she said excitedly while pulling open her large black leather purse to reveal two pastries wrapped in napkins. Michelle laughed and wished that she had thought of that herself. Just then a middle-aged man in gray slacks and a burgundy V-neck sweater walked into the room.

  “Apa,” Marika said with a smile. The man was Marika’s father and he had come to fetch the girls. They exchanged phone numbers, with Michelle giving them the number to Eranka’s house. Michelle walked out of the computer room with the girls and immediately saw her parents entering the buffet line. She asked the girls to stay put for a minute because she wanted her parents to meet them. Michelle’s parents were happy that she had already made friends in the country without even stepping outside the hotel. They had been worried about her getting bored with their outings, because after all she was only seventeen, and they knew that if she didn’t get her own time to do some of the things she wanted, there would be a major blow-up on the horizon. Before saying goodbye, Vilna told Michelle’s mother about a large music festival coming up that weekend and asked her if Michelle could join them? Her mother replied that they would have to check their schedule, prompting Michelle to give her mom a sideways glare. Marika said something to her father in Hungarian, and he proceeded to suggest to Michelle’s dad that he knew a good restaurant if they were interested? That way the girls could meet up prior to the weekend.

  Although Michelle was aware that she was in a different country while staying inside the hotel, it was only once the family exited its protective heavy doors that she really fel
t she was someplace completely foreign. While her father struggled with the colorful road signs that weren’t always in English, Michelle scanned the city streets, taking everything in. There was the morning traffic and the streets were filled with strange looking small cars in a variety of bright colors. The lanes varied from extra wide to extra narrow and Michelle wondered how it was that nobody was crashing into one another on a constant basis. The buildings on either side were a mixture of architectures that seemed a bit contradictory. On the one hand there were beautiful old buildings with ironwork and stylized windows reminiscent of the ones in San Francisco, only here they were prettier and felt more authentic, but in-between them there were modern structures that reminded her of the ones she saw in Los Angeles or even San Jose. Michelle liked the little green patches of grass and flowers springing from the road dividers, and those seemed to be present in every city block. The streetlights were also pretty and made to look like old-fashioned gas lamps. All in all, what she saw of Budapest impressed her. But once they headed towards the outskirts of the city, things started looking more shabby and careless. Gone were the handsome ironworks and the little trees with benches and fountains placed so carefully beneath their shade. These were replaced buy run-of-the-mill metal garbage cans and concrete benches. The buildings were old and in need of some major TLC. They looked like they were designed in the seventies. They were very blocky with a lot of square windows, and many had small shops at the street level that seemed to get dingier the further they got away from the city center.