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Time Flies

Page 8

by Larry Buenafe


  “Yeah, I guess you’re… wait, look.”

  Approaching us was a small, wiry old man with a wispy circle of white hair on his otherwise bald head, and a huge nose; maybe the biggest I had ever seen. Dude, that nose is impressive… I bet when he snores the whole town knows it! Walking next to him was a much younger man, tall and lean with long, dark hair, his arm heavily bandaged and in a sling.

  “Do you think that’s him?” Denise whispered.

  As if in answer to her question, I suddenly felt unsteady from the power that was flowing through me. “Yeah, that’s him. The old guy,” I gasped.

  “Well, I figured it was the old guy, since everyone we met called him Old Leo. The other guy looks more like Young Hunk, if you know what I mean.”

  I took several deep breaths to get myself under control, and I peered at Old Leo, now about fifty meters away. He seemed to be feeling something too; he had been helping the younger man as they came up the road, but now the relationship was reversed. Old Leo’s eyes went wide, and he kind of crumpled, his companion helping him to the ground. Oh, crap! Did I kill him? That is not good…

  He shouted something in Italian, and we ran to help; I had recovered enough to move, and we got there swiftly. The younger man was holding Old Leo’s head and speaking rapidly, still in Italian. “We can help,” Denise cried in Spanish, “Do you speak English?”

  Continuing at a high rate, he said, “Si´, I mean yes, yes. Please help me get him to our house, just there.” He pointed to a door at the top of a set of stone steps three houses away. As it turned out, we had been knocking at the house next to Old Leo’s, so it was probably a good thing they weren’t home; it would have made for a confusing interaction. I put one of the old man’s arms around my shoulder and helped heft him, and Denise got on the other side; he felt light as a feather. He seemed to be recovering as we walked up the steps and through the door, despite coughing, gasping, and generally sounding rough. All the while, he spoke in a language I had never heard.

  “Sorry, sorry, thank you,” said the young man, and then he spoke to Old Leo in the odd language. We helped him to a beat-up old chair in front of a six pane window looking out onto the darkened street, and he continued, “I don’t know what happen… he was good, then he fall, like a rock in the sea. Sorry, friends, thank you… my name is Pasquale. Old Leo is my grandfather; as you can see, very old, but strong. Thank you, thank you.”

  After making friendly introductions, I said, “Looks like you aren’t feeling too well either; your arm is bleeding.”

  Blood was oozing through his bandages, staining his shirt. “Oh, is nothing. Just fishing accident. Please, friends, watch Old Leo and I will clean this. Thank you, thank you,” and he rushed from the room. Old Leo appeared to be recuperating; Denise tried speaking to him in Spanish, and he understood some. He responded in Italian, and she got enough of it, so we were at least able to communicate that we had come a long way to meet him. He put on a knowing smile, but didn’t say any more.

  As we crouched next to him, Denise holding his hand and me patting him on the shoulder, we had a moment to check out the room. Small, old, and with a lived-in feel, it seemed almost like the prototype of a seaside village home in old-world Italy. The walls were adorned by a number of framed pictures of a much younger, smiling Leo, a pretty woman with a very large, sixties-style hairdo, and a handsome young man in his late teens that looked quite a lot like Pasquale.

  While we were surveying the room Pasquale returned, saying, “Please, friends, I offer you food and drinks. Please, thank you.”

  Normally I would refuse an offer like that; it just makes me feel uncomfortable to take things from other people, but I was hungry, and I knew Denise must be too. Besides, we were going to need to get to know these folks as rapidly as possible. Luckily, Denise replied: “Oh, Pasquale, thanks for your hospitality; that would be very nice.”

  “Ok, ok, I fix. I hope you like the fish!”

  I gave him a thumbs-up, and said, “Fish is awesome. Thank you Pasquale!”

  Somehow Denise knew it was hard for me to accept his offer; she nudged me, made eye contact, and mouthed, ‘good job!’

  Pasquale went into the small kitchen just to the right of the living area to prepare the food. As he worked, I took the opportunity to fill him in on why we were there. “Ah, Pasquale, it’s great that we were able to find you. We actually came looking for your grandfather, Old Leo. We’ve come a long way, and what we need to talk about is truly important; we need Old Leo’s help.” As I spoke, I got the strong feeling that there was more to the story of his injured arm than he had told us, but I didn’t want to take the chance of going into his mind for fear of tipping off The Others. “So, do you ever feel like your grandfather knows just what you’re thinking? Or, does it feel like he’s almost inside your mind, he knows you so well?”

  Pasquale turned from his activities, stared wide-eyed for a good ten seconds, then roared with laughter. “Friend Ferdie, you must also be a mind reader! How did you know this? He always knows exactly what I am thinking; I can hide nothing from him.”

  “Ok, this is going to sound weird… have you also noticed that he can somehow make things happen with his mind? I know that doesn’t make sense but have you ever noticed him, let’s say, telling someone to do something, and they do it, even though it seems like it’s the last thing they would want to do? I don’t know if I’m explaining this right…”

  “What Ferdie’s trying to ask, and he’s being very delicate about it, is: have you ever witnessed your grandfather controlling someone else with his mind?”

  Thanks a lot Denise… so much for being subtle… ok; let’s see where this takes us… We watched Pasquale intently, and it seemed that he wanted to tell us something, but didn’t think he should; suddenly, Old Leo spoke, in a high, gruff voice. He was speaking Italian, but it was obvious that he was giving Pasquale some directions. When he completed his statement, he laughed, low and rumbling in his chest. Pasquale listened carefully, and then said, “Old Leo, my grandfather, wants me to tell you everything. He say he has a good idea who you are, Ferdie. He felt you, if you know what I mean. He say it felt like being near the sun for a moment, but you did something to… what is the word? Reduce, that’s it.”

  Then, it all just poured out. He told us everything… discovering his abilities, although much later in life; intuitively knowing that they should only be used when absolutely necessary; feeling watched; feeling the presence of bad people with similar powers; the death of his son, Pasquale’s father; their struggle at sea with Engelbert, all of it.

  Chapter 12

  Listening to Old Leo’s story and asking occasional questions took us through our meal and on into the night. People in Italy, and I guess in a lot of European countries, like to drink wine, and that’s what Pasquale gave us with our food. I had never tasted wine before, and I was expecting it to taste kind of like grape juice, but it didn’t taste like that at all. I didn’t like it, but I drank a little bit to be polite; everyone else seemed to enjoy it, though.

  “So, Pasquale, how much of this did you know before today? I mean, you had an idea that your grandfather was different somehow, but how much did you really know about what he can do?”

  Pasquale cast his eyes down thoughtfully, and said, “I didn’t really know anything. This all is surprise to me. I’m not sure I can really believe it. I don’t believe in magic, I am a man of science, so is difficult for me, yes?”

  “Well, I think all of this has to do with science, really. Wait ‘til you and Old Leo hear my story. You better buckle in, though; this is going to take a while.” I told them about The Seven, the angels, Arnie, Marsh-dog, my parents, Marsh-dog’s parents, Uncle Mark, the Good Line, the Bad Line, the in-between, the Book of Names, everything. I had judged that Old Leo was not with The Others, and in fact that he considered them his enemies, even though he didn’t know who or what they were. He had connected the death of his son and the attack on Pasquale, but hadn�
��t realized that in both cases, The Others were actually trying to get to him and failed.

  As I spoke and Pasquale translated for Old Leo, he nodded his head, as if the things I was telling him were connecting the dots, and bringing the whole of his life into focus. All the while, Pasquale’s eyes got bigger and bigger, and I knew seeing a physical example would help make it all real for him; now that he knew the truth, we needed to make sure that we had him firmly on our side. I thought I had better get Denise’s opinion on that first, though.

  “Pasquale, I need to speak to Denise privately for a moment, would you mind?”

  “No, of course not. Let me show you to another room.” He ushered us into a small bedroom to the left of the living area.

  Before I had a chance to speak, Denise chimed in: “Ferdie, the only way Pasquale is really going to believe us is if one of us does something supernatural, and it seems to me that it would make it easier for us to keep Old Leo on our side if Pasquale is also on our side.”

  “I agree, but do you think it’s safe? The Others have already attacked them twice, even though the attacks came fifteen years apart.”

  She took a moment to ponder before answering. “To tell you the truth, I bet The Others already took their best shot by going after them on the boat. I don’t think they would chance an attack with you here. Don’t get a big ego about it, though.”

  Hey, she’s kind of like Marsh-dog, putting me in my place… I like that…

  “I think you’re right, but we’re about to change their lives, even more than we’ve already changed them. I’m going to tell them why the attack happened, and then let’s give them a show.”

  “You got it, chief.”

  We returned to the living room, and Pasquale and Old Leo were chatting quietly, the closeness of their relationship obvious in their body language. I cleared my throat, and spoke: “Ah, I need to let you guys know something that you might not want to hear, and it could make you decide that you don’t want anything to do with us, but I have to tell you; it’s the only fair thing to do. The attack on you this afternoon was caused by me. When the boat we were on passed yours, we connected, kind of linked up, just like what happened when you were walking up the street. I know you felt it, Leo. When The Others noticed that connection, they possessed the nearest person that could make an attack on you, and that just happened to be Engelbert. What they’re really trying to do is to keep me from gaining any more power or people on my side, because at some point, probably about, oh, 754 days from now, there’s going to be a showdown. They want to make sure that they can beat us. With us out of the way, they hope to get some of their members, whether they’re people, demons, fallen angels, abominations, or whatever, to the Good Line, because they believe that if they do that, it will destroy the Good Line and the universe that contains it. That will cause a shift in the balance of power, basically giving them control over everything. They need me, us, out of the way to do it.”

  I paused to let that sink in with them. As Pasquale translated, Old Leo nodded his head slowly, as if it all made sense to him, and confirmed things he was already feeling. It was clear that Pasquale had his doubts, though. He shook his head and said, “I am sorry, friends, but is too… what is word in English, metafisico…”

  “You mean metaphysical?” Denise offered.

  “Si´, yes, is almost the same. Seems too much like magic.”

  “Well, I guess it does seem like that, but a car seems like magic to an ant. Sorry, that’s not a good example; I don’t mean to compare you to an ant. I just mean we can’t say its magic just because we don’t understand how it works. Here, I’ll give you a better example. Are you ready, Denise?”

  She smiled, stood, and said, “Ready when you are!”

  “Ok, on the count of three, let’s do it slowly so they can see us fade. Ready? One, two, three!” We gradually faded into the in-between, taking about ten seconds so they could really see us dematerialize. Then we quickly switched locations, and pop! I materialized where Denise had been standing, and she appeared in my previous spot.

  Both of their mouths dropped open, but Pasquale quickly regained his composure. “That is good trick, but a clever magician could do this.” Old Leo, though, knew it was genuine; he was beginning to get a little emotional.

  It seemed clear that I needed to do more to persuade Pasquale that what we were doing was real. “Ok, Pasquale, I don’t blame you for being, oh, now it’s my turn to not be able to come up with the right word…”

  “Skeptical?” Denise suggested.

  “Yeah, that works. Anyway, I have something that will probably convince you, if you will let me. I don’t want to do it without your permission, though.”

  Pasquale hesitated, glanced over at Old Leo, and replied, “Ferdie, you seem very honest, and I don’t want to doubt you. Is just very hard to believe. If you can make me understand, please do it.”

  “Ok, if you say so.” Then I went to that familiar corridor in my mind, found the new door for Pasquale, and opened it, just a crack. I whispered into his mind, “Hi Pasquale. It’s me, Ferdie.”

  His reaction was a little unexpected; he grabbed his head and fell to the ground, screaming “It is too loud! Please, please!”

  I quickly backed out and closed his door. Dude, I’m going to have to be careful with regular people from now on… I think being around Old Leo has amped me up some more… Denise and I ran to help Pasquale to his feet. “Ok, ok, Ferdie, this hurts. You do this? Ok, I believe, I believe.”

  He collapsed into a worn out easy chair, and Old Leo smiled and spoke quietly to him. When he was done, Pasquale turned, and the look on his face said that they had made their decision. “Ok, Ferdie. We are in. What do we do now?”

  Hmm… I guess we should have thought about that beforehand… do we try to get them to come to Bakersfield? Do we gather everyone up and come here? What about Ariel? I don’t think we can stay here… we already have our base there, but that apartment is going to get really crowded…

  As I was ruminating, Old Leo again spoke to Pasquale, and Pasquale translated: “Ferdie, my grandfather asks for you to go to his mind like you did to me. He wishes to have this experience, please.”

  Dude, how am I going to explain this? “Ah, well, here is the problem, and this will take a minute to make it clear. The members of The Seven have the weird condition of being both human and supernatural at the same time. Why there are only seven has to do with the universe’s favorite number, I’m not totally clear on why only seven at a time, but that’s how it is. Well, because we are part human, we have a natural connection to other humans, and our supernatural half lets us have more of a connection, sort of supercharges it, and that’s why we can look into the minds of other people. For that same reason, full supernatural types, like angels, can’t reach into human minds because they don’t have the human part, and because they don’t have the human part, we members of The Seven can’t reach into their minds either. One member of The Seven can’t reach into the mind of another member because we are both human and supernatural, and the two cancel one another out. I know that’s all a little confusing; it baffles me too, but that’s how it works. So, to answer his request, I can’t do it, sorry.”

  Pasquale translated all of that, and Old Leo looked a little disappointed, but asked another question: “Ferdie, he wants to know: how do you look into minds? What do you, what is word… envision?”

  “Oh, that’s an interesting question. For me, I picture walking down a hall until I find a door with the person’s name or picture on it, then I open the door and look in.”

  Pasquale again translated, and then related Old Leo’s response: “He says he walks down a dock, and each boat is a different person. He just picks the right boat.”

  “Ok, same thing, basically.”

  “Old Leo has one other question, Ferdie: how is it to control someone? How do you do this?”

  “I just yell into their mind, a really strong command. How about him?”<
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  After a moment, he responded, “He say is same thing, but he feels very tired when happens this.”

  “Yeah, it can tire you out. I try to never do it unless I absolutely have to, because it’s a lot of negative energy.”

  “Yes, he say same thing. He also say we must go with you wherever you are needing. He can feel is right thing to do, even though very dangerous.”

  Denise and I shared a moment of eye contact. “I’m glad he decided that. I was afraid we were going to have to talk you into it, and I didn’t know if we could do it.”

  The rest of the evening was filled with planning for our return trip to Bakersfield. We decided that Old Leo would tell the townspeople that I was his American nephew, and that he was going to visit for a couple of weeks before he got too old.

  At the end of the evening, Old Leo went to bed, and we had a few minutes alone with Pasquale. I knew he had some strong feelings about the whole thing, and who could blame him? Here comes a couple of crazy Americans with some unbelievable story about saving the world, and he’s supposed to just leave, give up all his plans and dreams?

  Denise knew Pasquale wanted to talk about it, so she broke the ice: “It’s pretty obvious that this is hard for you. Why don’t you tell us how you’re feeling? Maybe there’s something we can do to help make it less painful for you.”

  Pasquale let out an epic sigh. “Thank you Denise, bella, you are, ah, you are very pretty. I like you, both of you. You are amazing, all of this… I can hardly believe it and I do not understand it, but my grandfather is convinced, so I am also. I am afraid… this means for me I will never go to the college, I will never get to know the college girls, you know what I mean, I will never get to study the engineering…” and he trailed off, looking at his shoes.

  I felt horrible for him; his sense of loss was intense. “Yeah, I’m sorry Pasquale. I’m afraid that is what all of this means. On the other hand, though, you’ll be a part of the biggest adventure of all time. That’s not too bad.”

 

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