The Vaticinator

by Namita Singh

dinner. In awkward silence, everybody in the house, except for Gwen aunt, flood into the kitchen. My mother is the only one who is happily chattering away. Rest of us, we act ineptly, bashful almost, due to the discomfiture resulting from the circumstance. Rome’s periodic screeching just adds to the inelegance of our situation.

  “Neal,” Father starts immediately when Rome’s bout of screaming seizes for a moment, “If you wish to know about us, you need only ask. From what I could gather from your aunt, you’re not well informed of us. Not even well informed about yourself but your aunt wishes to discuss that herself.”

  “I’ll also prefer to talk to her.” Neal says, almost defensively, eyeing my father with wariness. “And about you guys, I have been saying the same since I am here. That I don’t know…” Neal mumbles. He appraises my father, “Don’t expect me tell about myself in return.” He blurts.

  Father sighs, “You don’t have to tell.” He says, making Neal look reprieved, “I’ll ask your aunt anyways when she comes tomorrow.”

  Neal stares at my father. “She doesn’t know the details.” He says quietly.

  My father casually returns the stare. “You’ll be surprised.” He drawls.

  Neal frowns and sighs in defeat, turning away anddeciding to not question on it. He has obviously realized that he is the least informed about everything amongst the ones in the kitchen at the moment. I have millions of questions of my own. The air is already thick with tension, besides I have no idea how much my elders want to divulge in front of Neal. So I keep my curiosity at bay in front of them at least.

  “So,” Neal grunts, “I am assuming you all can…change into animals?” he grimaces at the end.

  “Not everyone, sweetheart.” My mother says, smiling, “I cannot.”

  Neal frowns.

  “We are the zoicvitalists.” Father says, before anybody else can interrupt him again. “‘Therians’ is what by which we are commonly referred to as. Yes, we have the ability to metamorphose into an animal form. I can demonstrate if you want-”

  “No, thanks.” Neal winces.

  I snicker inconspicuously.

  “Your aunt is the same as us.” Father continues, a slight smirk on his face. I can’t help but feel that father is enjoying making Neal uncomfortable. Neal doesn’t comment on his aunt being a therian but it’s easy to make out that he was not aware of that.

  “Are you the alpha?” Neal blurts, looking at my father.

  Aakir bursts into suppressive snickers at that, making it difficult for me to suppress my own laughter. Rufina aunt is also smirking now.

  “You watch a lot of movies, kid.” Terry uncle says, smiling.

  “Ugh, thanks.” Neal mumbles and doesn’t raise anymore query. The dinner is quiet, with only my mother and Rufina aunt trying to break the tension, their efforts getting destroyed by Rome’s savage hounding in the attic. After an awkward dinner, my father gives a long ass lecture to Neal about his safety and whatnot; that he’ll be the safest till he remains in the house and he’ll be at his own risk if he tries to escape. Neal doesn’t look like he is planning to escape, especially after his conversation with his aunt but my father doesn’t cut slack at warning him.

  Aakir and I lead Neal to the second floor, which is the same floor on which our rooms are. There is a certain edge of reformed discomfort between the three of us. It’s not every day you realize that the usual teenagers you encounter in school are far from being normal. Rome’s ferocious growls grow more perceptible since the attic is just above our floor. Aakir shows the guest room on this floor to Neal while I quickly get some of my clothes to lend to Neal for the night. My clothes will be slightly big on him but Neal isn’t exactly someone who wears tight clothes anyway. Another scream fills our ears as we mumble incoherent goodnights.

  “Wouldn’t he shut up?” Neal mutters, moving to his room.

  “Trust me, dude.” Aakir says miserably, “I feel your pain.”

  I retire to my room too, closing the door so it’ll block some of the noises Rome is making. As I change into my nightwear, my senses refocus on the aura of my partner only a few feet away. If anybody would have told me today in the morning that I’ll be sharing my house with my partner tonight, I would have probably bet my father’s library books against it. Just a few hours have seemed to change the course of my life entirely. Unlike my previous predisposition to not make a deal of my partner’s inexplicable aura, I am suddenly irrepressibly interested to know about his uniqueness. Neal seems ignorant but at the same time highly informed of what is going on with him.

  I recall what Terry uncle said about him. That Neal can see the future? That sounds totally bizarre. Not to mention, clichéd. But then we being therians don’t exactly belong to the norms either. As I close my eyes, I try to recall if I have read about this oracle thing in any of the historical records my father has let me read. What was the word? Vatican or something? Isn’t Vatican a city? With jumbled thoughts and numerous failed attempts at remembering, my eyes close on their own accord and my ears grow distant to the savage screams of Rome. But even in the fleeting moment of sub-consciousness, I pray to the triple goddess for a better day tomorrow.

  10.A Night To Remember

  Tomorrow is not what I get to see when I open my eyes next; not in the literal sense at least. My sleep is broken half way through the night, quite a few hours before dawn. The first thing I notice are the howls emanating from the attic. Rome has not given up from torturing everyone in the house. I don’t know if my family has managed to sleep with Rome screaming at the top of his lungs or their sleeps have been disrupted in the same way my sleep has broken. I shift around, looking at my bed side table that displays the clock. It is nearly two thirty AM in the morning. After a minute I realize that it’s not Rome who has my eyes open. A faint knock resonates from my bedroom door, proving to be the source of my interrupted sleep. I don’t know since how long the knocking has been going on. I shake the sleepiness away and concentrate, feeling surprised at sensing Neal’s aura right outside my door. Hastily, I get up, accidently bumping against my night table. I curse, my eyes half closed due to sleepiness and walk on. I immediately trip on the duvet that decides to slide down, entangled in my legs. I barely manage to hold myself upright. With another round of lazy curses, I open the door of my room.

  Neal is standing, his hands thrust in the pocket of the sweat pants that I have lent him, the cuffs of which are folded at his feet. He looks wide awake and slightly annoyed with his lips pursed.

  “Hi.” I say, barely managing to open my eyes.

  “Wouldn’t he shut up at all?” He says, his voice an odd combination of anger and helplessness, making it come out as an annoyed whimper.

  “What?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

  “This,” he says, pointing a finger towards the ceiling. For effect, Rome growls loudly just above our heads, “He has been screaming and jumping incessantly above my room.” Neal complains.

  I suppress a yawn, “Sorry…We should maintain a guest room on the lower floors.”

  “No shit.”

  “We can’t really do anything about it.” I tell him, forcing my eyes open, “He usually calms down within a few hours.”

  “What if he escapes?” Neal blurts, slight panic in his voice. He winces and continues in a calmer voice, “I mean, he has been extra ferocious in the past half hour.”

  Now wait a second…is Neal….? Is he feeling scared?

  “We keep him expertly locked.” I supply, “He won’t be able to escape. But,” I say, “If you feel uncomfortable in your room then you can sleep in mine. The bed’s big enough.” I say, opening my door more and emphasizing on my bed which is invisible in the darkness.

  Neal narrows his eyes suspiciously at me, “I am not standing here because I am frightened. I can sleep alone. But it’s difficult to manage that with the noise.” He clarifies.

  I sigh. Neal has more pride than even Aakir.

  “Frightened or not, you’re welcome. And findin
g this,” I point a finger upwards, “scary is not going to make you look like a wimp. There have been nights when I used to sleep between my parents because of this.”

  Neal rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on it. I open my door more and move inside. I walk to my bed and switch on the light; my room no longer in the darkness. “Plus,” I say as I turn around, “If Rome escapes perchance then the two of us can fend him off easily in my opinion.”

  “That thing has a name?” Neal says, raising his eyebrows as he enters my room. His steps are cautious, his eyes darting around my room fervently as if he is looking for something even remotely dangerous.

  “That ‘thing’ is a part of our family.” I answer him, motioning for him to shut the door.

  He complies, drowning Rome’s noisiness slightly. He circumspectly eyes my bedroom floor as he walks inside, “Were you sleeping on the floor?” he asks in amusement.

  I look downwards and see my duvet sprawled lazily on the floor. I sigh, “Your knocks surprised me enough to drag it with me.” I say as I pick the duvet up and throw it on the bed.

  “So…” Neal says, abruptly stopping near my book shelf near the right wall, “Your mom said he is a ‘mental therian’…I am assuming it means he is mentally retarded or something.” He nosily starts checking out my books which are mostly my course books. I am not an avid reader.

  I sit back on my bed, resting