by Lila Felix
***
I skipped out Sunday afternoon after spending more time with my parents. I got back to my rented cottage in the backwoods of New Zealand. I spent some time observing my shadow. That’s what I called him. From a distance, he looked like just that—my shadow. He carried out meaningless tasks and even turned out the lights when he was done. It was like having a zombie for a twin without all the intestine chewing.
Then I simply said the words and his image swished back into me.
It was weird, to say the least.
I called Collin and made arrangements to come back on Friday, noting that I would have someone with me. He seemed excited as Collin could get—which meant he didn’t yell at me.
Colby had stayed pretty silent the past few days. I supposed she was juggling her business around and prepping for whatever we were heading into.
I didn’t worry about it. Colby’s word was solid.
But I was nervous as hell for whatever would happen next. Specifically, how everything would hash out with Colby and me being together again. Not together-together, but in the same proximity. I tried—God help me I tried to keep cool around her. Holding up that façade of ambiguity was exhausting.
Cool and unattached just wasn’t who I was.
Sharing my feelings with Colby was like second nature to me. I couldn’t imagine being in her presence and not commenting on how beautiful she was or not letting her know how much I loved her. It came as easy to me as breathing. Mostly, because she was my very breath.
I simply couldn’t survive without her.
Colby was the opposite. She was the opposite of me in so many ways. She was beach when I was mountain retreat. She listened to Moby while my earbuds blasted Roy Orbison. Colby was defense, and I was always on the offense.
On the surface, nothing about us made sense.
Until you got down to the core of things.
I’d lost my brother only three months after she lost her dad. Just like she never spoke of her dad, except on his birthday, I never spoke of my brother.
Torrent hadn’t died. In some ways, it would be better if he had. He’d simply disappeared. One day, he went to bed on a normal school night, seven weeks before his high school graduation. The next morning, he was gone. We shrugged it off at first. Torrent was a track runner and a Varsity swimmer. He went to practice and workouts early on a regular basis. Even when the school called to report his absence midday, my mother thought it was an oversight. We assumed because his car was still in the driveway that he’d caught a ride with one of his many friends. But that night, the official search began. He was a good bit older than me, six years. Our family had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on private investigators, Lucent and human alike, trying to find him. It killed my mother and nearly demolished my father.
They still kept his room as he left it and his car unmoved from its spot. I knew they missed him and I did too, but I couldn’t imagine Torrent would want their lives to stay still. It was horrible to say, but I was almost glad for the distraction when I discovered that I could flash. It became an escape from the funeral home that was my house.
The depths of what could be for their now only son kicked my parents out of grief and into protection mode.
It happened on accident. And as if the Almighty wanted me to be perfectly camouflaged when I discovered the gift—I flashed for the first time in the middle of a particularly noisy Louisiana thunderstorm. I was on the phone with Colby, one of our never-ending phone conversations though we had been together in school and most of the afternoon. When I closed my eyes, I imagined being on the roof opposite her room so I could see her through a window as she talked to me. Clutching my phone as my only float through the waves of space, I suddenly landed in a sloppy, bumbling mess on the roof I had imagined, watching her through her open window.
She continued speaking to me as if the most shocking and powerful moment of my life hadn’t just occurred. I had patted myself down, expecting to lose body parts or some of the depth of my form—something. But my body was just fine, and I regained my balance in seconds.
Of course, I walked home that night, afraid to try it again.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of me and I tried somewhere a little further away—and a little further from that.
The first time I landed in Israel, I nearly shit my pants right there in the Holy Land.
That was the day before my birthday, three days before Colby had made me wonder if it had really been a gift after all.
I hadn’t expected her until Friday morning, but Thursday night, as I studied as much computer research as I could from the digital records the Synod would let me see, I felt the atmosphere shift around me. A bubble popped somewhere nearby in the time it took for lightning to strike. Lightning had struck. I knew for sure when Colby knocked on my door, my conscience and my gift alerting me to her identity.
Agitated nerves flared to life, knowing this was the beginning of the end. Many things could happen with Colby and me, with me and the Synod, and with us and the Resin. Things that didn’t even take into account the government or everyday worries.
Hell, I didn’t even know if the place in Tibet would allow me access to Sevella’s journals without permission from the Synod.
I tried like hell to open the door without a beaming smile on my face. My senses were already on overload with her on the other side of it. What would happen when we were constantly in such close proximity?
The door creaked as it opened. It was a small cottage of a place. I’d never meant for it to house more than just me. But it was only for one more day until we headed to Tibet.
“Hey.” She shielded her eyes against the light pouring from the tiny abode.
“Come in,” I bid her. She carried only a small bag, but somehow I knew that small, almost weightless bag carried a mall’s worth of clothes, even though we could flash into any store, anytime of the night, and get whatever she needed. I knew for a fact that she went into H&M, her favorite store, and got what she wanted in the night, grabbed the surveillance videos, and then left a wad of cash on the counter as she left.
Colby shivered as she stepped into the cottage and looked around.
“It’s so cute—like a Hobbit house.”
I chuckled and took the bag from her. I was right. Her bag was light as could be. She flounced onto the loveseat and picked up my notebook where I’d been taking notes. Without a second thought, she plucked her sandals off one by one, bent her legs under herself, and settled into the couch as she read.
Who did she think she was kidding? Nothing had changed between us but a shallow relationship status. Colby was just as comfortable around me as she always had been—as she always would be.
“Can I make you some tea?” I offered. She thought about it for a second, and then opened her mouth to say something, but must have decided, last minute, to squelch whatever it was.
“Just say it,” I said.
“I was going to ask you to get me something else, but I don’t know what we are anymore. I don’t know what you are to me. I don’t have the right to ask.”
“I’m a man the last time I checked,” I provided, patting my clothes in the obvious region proving my male status.
She snickered. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”
“I think I know what you want.”
I flashed to the back of a gas station in Southern Mississippi where I knew they had exactly what she craved. Going inside, I spotted the machine and chuckled at my love’s love of such a kiddie thing.
I paid for two, since I knew one would never suffice and flashed back to the cottage, holding on tight to the priceless treasure.
She looked up at me, desperate not to smile. “What flavor?”
“I got one cotton candy and one strawberry. I knew you couldn’t just have one.” I bent down to give it to her unable to resist jabbing her one more time. Hovering just over her shoulder, I whispered into her ear, “I know all the things
you are insatiable for.”
She shivered again, the second in such a short period of time, and looked up at me with those almost golden light brown eyes. I backed off and offered her both of the drinks.
“What did you do, memorize all the gas stations that sell Slush Puppies?”
I shrugged. I never had been good at pretending not to hang on every breath she took.
“Yeah, so?”
She answered my shrug with one of her own and went back to reading my notes. By the time the night was over, she’d given herself half a dozen brain freezes. It never failed. No matter how many she got, as soon as they receded, she’d down enough to give her another one.
She had a seriously unhealthy relationship with brain freezes.
The digital records glowing on the computer screen grabbed my attention and kept me reading until I could see the sun rising outside of the windows. I hadn’t even realized it was so late or early. Colby was long gone, asleep on the couch, still clutching one of the empty Slush Puppies in one hand and my notebook in the other. Her lips were tinted red like a child who’d been keeping a cherry Popsicle company. They were slightly open while she slept. Her eyes flittered behind closed eyelids. Knowing Colby, she probably flashed in her dreams and in consciousness. I stretched, making the blood return to my legs. They’d gone to sleep sometime in the night. Colby had to be put to bed or her neck would be killing her later. Putting her empty treat in the trash, I closed the notebook and picked up her feather-light form. I wanted more than anything to close the distance between her mouth and mine, but thought better of it. Tucking her into my tiny bed seemed like a shame without me next to her, but I wouldn’t sleep with her unless I had her explicit permission, preferably with her prompting.
Instead, I would make do with the loveseat.
The next morning, I woke with the crick in my neck that I’d saved Colby from.
I pulled my body this way and that trying to relieve its stiffness. I heard the shower start to run and saw the steam billowing from the gap between the door and the hardwood flooring. From this vantage point, her voice could be heard belting out the chords of Nirvana and the smell of her white, ‘Please for the love of all that’s holy don’t ever buy her another color other than white’ Dove soap wafted in with the steam. A myriad of memories were brought to life by just that one scent. She was a fickle princess when she wanted to be.
In order to give her the privacy she would want, I took a frigid shower outside in the makeshift stall that looked like it was built more for after beach outings than regular cleanliness. Its walls were nothing more than nailed and patched driftwood from the sea. There was certainly no steam coming from my shower since it was colder than a snowman’s ass.
I dressed as quickly as I could and went back into the cottage, hoping she was ready. I was more than eager to introduce her to Collin and get her take on the things I’d found thus far. When I entered, she was cleaning up the place, picking up after herself and packing her bag.
“Have a good shower?” I asked her.
“Yeah, thank you. You didn’t have to go outside. Just knock on the door and tell me to hurry up next time.”
“I will. Are you ready now?”
“Yes. Got anything to eat?”
“There are apples and pears in the fridge.”
I knew she ate like a bird, always had.
She grabbed a few, one for now and two for later. Collin would surely put a damper on her eating plans later on. I wanted to get just a little satisfaction over watching her get into all the trouble I had with Collin over eating and touching things—mostly, general breathing in the direction of the books.
I’d texted her pictures of the castle where the records were kept, so it was easy for us, in a matter of seconds, to get to the castle. I wanted the first experience at this place to be completely real for her—so a few things had to happen. First, she had to discover that knocking on the door did absolutely no good. She propped her fists on her hips after the second knock.
“What the hell?”
I pointed to the rope with the larger-than-life tassel hanging from it.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Theo. What is this, the Addams Family?”
“Try it.”
Colby was such a lightweight that I had to help her pull on the rope. A reverberating gong could be heard echoing through the place. She made a satisfied ‘huh’ and crossed her arms over her chest.
She observed the surroundings for the first time in person. She allowed the purple flowers to float along her fingertips while we waited. She’d always been infatuated with all things delicate in nature. She didn’t want to be involved with them, but she respected their beauty. Like babies—Colby loved to look at babies, but when propositioned to hold one, she would back away slowly and shake her head with a resounding ‘no’. The monstrous door began to creak open and I stepped back, wanting Colby to get the full effect of Collin’s size and stature. Collin looked haggard this time though, and I regained my previous step to get a closer look.
“Collin, what’s wrong?”
He looked around and waved us in wordlessly. After we were inside, he stuck his head out of the door and looked around again. He hadn’t acted this way the other times I’d come around. Something was definitely up.
“I’ve been replaced,” he lamented, dragging his right hand over his closely shaven head.
I was less shocked than I thought I’d be. I was digging into topics and records that were hardly ever dug from their graves—that was the way the Synod liked it. Their word on subjects like Eivan and Eidolon were the end of the story.
Though the Synod, on the surface, encouraged the Lucents to research their histories, researching and questioning were two heads of a coin teetering on the edge of defiance.
“Did they say why?” Colby got his attention.
“They don’t have to. I already know why. You must be Colby. It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally.”
Colby shot me a knowing look.
“Because of me,” I provided the answer he refused to.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve spent the better part of the last week scanning and getting most of the information on Eivan and Sevella to digital form. Whoever comes in after me tomorrow will certainly be—discouraging—to anyone who wants to look at them in the future.”
This was my fault. This was the reason I wanted as few people involved as possible. This man, who had been a Guardian for decades, was now homeless and jobless because of his desire to help me. And all he did was show me some books.
What repercussions would Colby have to face?
I’d allowed myself to get so caught up in having her with me that I let it cloud the fact that it might ruin her life. Maybe this whole issue with Collin would change her mind.
“Those sons of bitches. What will you do now? How can we help you?”
In juxtaposition to his general outward appearance of strength, Collin held onto the back of the chair beside him and looked truly perplexed.
“Help me? No one helps me.”
That sparked a dangerous rebellion in Colby’s eyes. Her personal disdain for the Synod was mostly about herself and because of the way Rebekah was now treated in their shadow. But then again, Colby was defiant to anything and anyone who tried to rule her—she had a real deep-rooted issue with authority.
“Yes, we will.”
He met her stare with an equally resilient one. “I can help myself, young lady. I was going to offer my services to who I believe is the Eidolon.” He turned to address me, “It would be my honor to help you on your quest for more answers and information, Theodore.”