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This is the tale of two teenage lovers. One can fly. |
| Greetings, before the story starts, I just wanted to thank the anonymous person(s) who have gifted me with an upgraded account. Thanks a lot, whoever you are. This story's something of a breakaway from my normal 'death and devestation' theme. It's the first in an anthology of short stories which combine the mundane with the supernatural. Anyhoo, onwards to the story... Letâs Fly Together By Richard Paul Lying in a forest rightfully shouldnât have been as comfortable for him as it was that night. It was mid February and though the first traces of spring were beginning to make themselves felt in the daylight hours, they were quite absent with the departure of the sun. If that wasnât enough then the wet mud and twigs that littered the floor should have made the experience utterly uncomfortable. That wasnât the case though. Nothing was ever uncomfortable when she was with him. That wasnât a cheesy âlove conquers allâ sentiment, it was a very real and very confusing fact. The freezing air which he had walked through for almost an hour to meet her here had changed to a cool breeze which blew quietly and unobtrusively against his face. The damp detritus on the forest floor couldnât be felt. There was no jagged edge or awkward bump on the ground on which his weary form was lying. There was just a warm, smooth surface. Maybe he should have felt more suspicious about that. It wasnât natural after all, but so what? It wasnât like she was summoning a half-dozen vultures to peck his face off. Hell, maybe she wasnât even doing anything. Maybe it was him. Maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe some friendly guardian angel was making nights like these perfect for them. It could happen! Whatever it was, what mattered to him now, more then the suspicious lack of influence from the elements was the silent, sleeping form of Rebecca who was once again spread out on top of him, her head resting in the soft space below his right shoulder. Her breathing quiet and contended. Her arms hung loosely around the back of his head and neck. It had been her idea to come here tonight. Sheâd wanted to watch the stars and then the sunrise. She loved nature, the simple beauty of it. It was partly that which had brought them together in the first place. Having said that however, once they were together it was pretty hard for either of them to focus on the stars, and now theyâd probably both end up sleeping through the sunrise. Oh well. At the back of his mind the annoying voice that refused to stay silent reminded him for the hundredth time that he shouldnât be out here. That it was one of those all important school days. That savage beasts and beastly savages lurked in the forest and that dammit, sleeping in the woods was just plain weird. He hated that part of him. Here he was, as free as he was ever going to be, no souls around for miles save for his beautiful girlfriend. This was what heâd wanted his whole life. Nights like this, when he was free of all the bullshit that seemed to surround every other aspect of his life. And how was he spending it? By worrying about missing the school bus. As if in answer to his train of thought, Rebecca shuffled slightly. A faint murmur escaped her lips and her hands tightened slightly around him. The worries disappeared from his mind as he suddenly realised, or perhaps remembered what was important right now. Though he couldnât help but shudder at how utterly nauseating the thought sounded, he couldnât help but wonder what heâd done in a past life, how many children he must have saved from a burning museum or how many murderers he must have thrown into moving traffic to be blessed with a girlfriend like Rebecca. Whatever the answer was, the reality was that he was here now with her in a small oasis of perfection. He was happy now. Truly happy for the first time in years, and that was why he was so terrified of the inevitable crash. Sooner or later, this would all end. Everything did at some point or other. Rebecca shuffled again. A short, sleepy sound which might have been laughter escaped her mouth, followed by a mumbled âJackâ and something unrecognisable before she fell silent again. This struck him as odd, one not inconsiderable reason for this being that his name was Daniel. (Just kidding) Jack bent his face downwards to kiss the top of her head before pushing his own head back into the ground. With his eyes focused on the star coated sky above him, he gradually fell to sleep. _____________________________________________________________________ âAgain?â âAgain.â Jack responded casually as he shook the last of the dust from the back of his coat and closed the door. âRetard.â Came the matter-of-fact response from his sister Elizabeth before she returned her attention to the television. They werenât perplexed any more. That, if nothing else was as much of a relief as it was a surprise. The first time this had happened he had to explain what heâd done to them all four times before it finally sunk in that he hadnât been drunk or abducted or sodomised or whatever. This unorthodox behaviour didnât fit into their rigid ideas of what their son would do and what he wouldnât. They didnât know a fucking thing. Jack considered replying but doing so, as heâd discovered on more then one occasion, was a lost cause. With a sigh he made his way to the kitchen and ran his hands under the tap. Now that Rebecca wasnât around the detritus from the forest was now making its presence felt. It was becoming more and more common for him to catch awkward sideways glances at school because of the dirt and leaves concealed in his hair. Maybe he should start coming back earlier. A shower would be nice. So would enough time to make a more substantial breakfast then a packet of crisps and a banana. With such foodstuffs in hand, Jack made his way to his room and hastily shed his mud encrusted shirt. Stuffing it carelessly in the back of his wardrobe behind a small pile of equally untidy shirts which he kept promising himself that heâd clean later, he pulled a fresh T- shirt from another shelf and barely had time to pull it over his chest before his mother burst into the room. âCome in, why donât you?â Jack said to the unsmiling face in front of him. âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â She wasnât shouting this time. She looked like she was getting used to feeling frustrated. âI still canât see exactly what Iâve done wrong.â âIâve already told you, and I shouldnât have even had to do that much, it should be obvious what youâre doing wrong. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is sleeping outside in the woods? Itâs a wonder you havenât caught pneumonia yet. If I could only get in touch with her parents Iâd straighten this out right now.â âLook I know what Iâm doing.â âHow can you? You donât know anything right now. Youâre not thinking. Youâre blindly following that junkie of yours wherever she leads you and youâre not thinking about how dangerous or just how utterly stupid what she wants you to do is.â âI told you not to call herâŚâ âOh face the bloody facts Jack. No one in their right mind would sleep outside in the wilderness, no one would offer themselves up to disease or any passing paedophile. And no one with half a shred of decency would drag anyone else with them into such stupidity. You donât think youâre the first boyfriend that sheâs dragged up there to fulfil some kind of free-spirit fantasy do you?â Fantasy? Yeah I guess thatâs all it could ever be to someone like you. You donât understand it at all do you, you festering fucking cu⌠âWell, do you?â Jack shook himself free of his silent rant and spared another hating look at his mother. After a few seconds the anger died off slightly and he parted with a heavy sigh. It wasnât her fault. Not really. She meant well, but she didnât understand. How could she? âI have to change.â He said as calmly as he could. âI donât want to be late for school.â If his mother even heard these words, she didnât acknowledge them. âHave you slept with her?â âNo.â Jack replied in an exasperated voice that through considerable practice sounded passably genuine. âAre you going to?â âHow would I know?â This new, well rehearsed line he perhaps said a bit too quickly. âOh, âhow would I know?ââ She replied, imitating his voice and repeating each word in a strange kind of retarded murmur. âThis is exactly my point Jack! Youâre not thinking. Youâre blissfully stumbling about with this girlfriend of yours and sooner of later sheâs going to land you in a right mess, and if itâs something like I think itâll be, I wonât be able to help you.â âYou donât have a fucking clue whatâŚâ âYouâre 16 years old.â She wasnât listening. She never did, âYou like to pretend you know something about the world but the truth isâŚâ Heâd heard this speech before, he wasnât going to hear it again. âIâm going.â Jack said coldly. Forgoing the change of trousers and underwear and leaving his threadbare breakfast untouched on his mattress, he grabbed his school bag and moved past his mother, avoiding her eyes and trying to keep the rising tide of frustration at bay. He wanted to shout at her. He wanted her to understand the reason why she didnât, and probably could never understand why she was worried about nothing. âRunning away wonât change anything.â Came the shouts as Jack made his way down the stairs, âSooner or later youâre going to realise that sheâs nothing but a waste of space who isnât worth your time. I just hope you realise that before you she gives you AIDS or something.â Elizabeth was giggling as Jack entered the room. She made it painfully obvious with contemptuous glares in his direction that he was the target of her amusement. No doubt sheâd been listening to the drama above and found great delight in listening once again to just how much of an idiot her brother was. âBitch.â Jack said, earning no break in his sisterâs smug laughter. Grabbing a few loose coins from the change bowl for lunch, he made his way to the exit. Iâll have to come back here soon enough. With a sigh Jack pushed open the front door and, both filthy and starving, made his way towards the bus stop. _____________________________________________________________________ It was raining Again! This must have been the fifth day in a row that the countryâs collection of clouds descended upon the town. Standing next to him were two wizened female students who had the good sense to leave their houses with umbrellas in hand. The closest shelter to the bus stop was a leafless tree which was roughly a ten minute walk away, and cleverly, in his haste to leave the house Jack had left his coat behind. In short, he was going to get wet again. This was getting ridiculous. He was standing outside in thin, damp clothes with the icy wind passing seemingly straight through him. Heâd be lucky if he didnât catch his death of cold. Some food in his gut would be nice as well. And if the damn bus, which was already four minutes late, would turn up then he could at least get out of the rain. And Rebecca would be on the bus. Sheâd be with him at lunch. Theyâd do something after school maybe? That was what he had to look forward to today. She was all he had to look forward to nowadays. He knew that wouldnât always be the case. Heâd seen no end of relationships among friends which started off much the same as his, though somehow he doubted their girlfriends ever made the cold literally disappear. (He really needed to figure out just what the hell was happening with that. He had to be imagining it.) The end result of these relationships was always the same. They gradually grew apart, they split up and after a day or twoâs moping, both people got on with their lives went on as if nothing had happened. Heâd seen it too many times to adopt the blind conviction that his and Rebeccaâs would somehow be different. But that time was a long was away. Right now they were happy, and nothing so far had been able to stop that. Not his contemptuous parents, not hers. At least he assumed her parents were contemptuous of their relationship, she almost never mentioned them and when she did it was clear that sheâd rather talk about something else. At long last, the faint noise of a familiar engine cut through the sound of the heavy rain. Jack turned his head and saw the almost pleasant sight of the school bus appearing around the corner and watched as it gradually made its way to the stop. As it stopped, the doors opened sluggishly and Jack stepped through into the damp smelling, litter strewn tin can, showed his bus pass to the driver and, not finding Rebecca on the bottom floor, made his way up the staircase. He found her sitting on the front seat, she was gazing distantly at the mist covered windows. She looked utterly separated from the unwelcoming grime and the assorted chatter of the other students. She was out of place here. Brushing a discarded packet of salt and shake crisps off of the seat, Jack sat down next to Rebecca and smiled as she turned to face him. They exchanged greetings and Jack was about to drape his arm around her shoulders, but remembering that his arms were still dripping rainwater, thought better of it. Rebecca had other ideas however, clutching Jackâs wet arm in her hands she lifted it around the back of her neck and pushed her head onto his equally wet shoulder. Jack instantly felt warmer. The uncomfortable pressing of his damp jeans against his legs abruptly vanished. He wasnât hungry. Rightfully he should have been able to feel all these things simply by realising that he should be feeling these things. Try as he might though, he couldnât. In Rebeccaâs presence such things were forbidden. This wasnât natural, and he wasnât sure how long he could go on ignoring it. She had to know what she was doing right? Or did she? If he was wrong, then asking her in all seriousness whether or not she was some kind of enchantress might make things somewhat awkward between them. âDid they give you any more grief?â Rebecca asked suddenly, offering a welcome break in his train of thought. âYep.â He said through slightly clenched lips. âMore of the same.â âYouâd think theyâd have stopped worrying by now. How many times have we spent the night outside now? Three?â âFour. But I guess it doesnât change the fact that in their eyes Iâm the innocent, naive simple-minded child that they need to save from â himself.â That wasnât what he was going to say but he saw no reason to relate his familyâs opinions of Rebecca to her. âTheyâre never going to change are they?â âDoesnât look like it. I mean, my mum wonât even listen toâŚâ He trailed off. Heâd said all of this before, and some of the most irritating people he knew were that way simply because they kept repeating the same things over and over again. âThat doesnât matter.â Rebecca said after a momentâs pause. She said this with a confidence that to Jack somehow seemed odd, though he couldnât put his finger on why exactly. âHow about your family? Anything new?â âNo, still the same.â What âthe sameâ was exactly was something Rebecca had never explained too well. From the way she made it sound, her family found their exploits funny. He must have misheard or misunderstood or something, but whatever the truth was, she was hesitant to go into detail on the subject, and so cryptic one liners would be all that Jack got. âIt doesnât matterâ She said again after another silence. âTheyâll always be there, always in the way.â âNot always.â Rebecca replied, taking Jackâs free hand in her own and resting the two on his left leg. With that, she closed her eyes and her breathing gradually became more shallow. Jack lifted his arm to examine his watch and saw that there was still a fair way to go before they reached the school. Returning his arm to around Rebeccaâs neck, he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. If he did fall asleep on the way there then no doubt some well meaning person would whack him over the back of the head with a magazine when they arrived. _____________________________________________________________________ âLook, take the bloody five quid or Iâll bash your skull in.â Kyle held the aforementioned five pound note in one hand and juggled an unimpressive looking rock in the other, presumably the instrument of his skull bashing. His voice sounded sincere and anyone who didnât know him might believe that he actually meant it, no matter how absurd it sounded. Jack sighed and took the money. He would never understand why it was that his friend seemed so uncomfortable when people tried to do nice things for him. In this instance, he had pitched in for a cinema ticket about a week back when Kyle was short of money. In an apparently unwise moment of generosity heâd told him not to worry about paying him back. Instead of accepting the offered escape route however, Jack had been pestered continually by attempted repayments thrust under his nose, hidden in his bag and now it seemed, death threats. âThanks.â He said in an exasperated voice as he pocketed the money. âRight.â Kyle said, all fake hostility now gone from his voice, âThatâs that then.â He casually cast his weapon into a nearby hedge, startling an innocent sparrow in the process and reached underneath his coat to wipe the dirt from the rock onto his white school shirt. âSo,â Kyle said lightly, âDid they finally bury you alive or is that crud in your hair scooped up from another merry romp in the Garden of Eden with that girlfriend of yours?â Part of Jack thought that he should be offended at that, but Kyle was a strange kid, his was the kind of voice that made anything funny and unserious. He could tell you that thanks to a change in the curriculum there were to be an extra thirteen GCSE exams and youâd still find yourself giggling. âWhat do you think?â âI think you look like a weasel thatâs been ravished by an owl. But you got laid, so thatâs forgivable I guess.â âActually this time weâŚâ âCongratulations sir.â Kyle said, ignoring his protestations and bowing elaborately, âIâd kiss you but I fear I might stick to you.â Jack couldnât help but laugh. That however soon died out as an ear piercing shrill sounded over the length and breadth of the school, informing the morose students that the short lived first break was now over. The two made their way towards an uninviting building in which a thoroughly unpleasant man known only as Mr. Green was waiting to inform them and several others how to complain to the employees at the local post office about the colour of first class stamps or something equally pointless in French. âI have to say,â Kyle said, his voice one of overemphasised seriousness, âIt doesnât seem all too practical. Doing the delightful deed amongst the Elms I mean.â âDonât you start.â âHey donât get me wrong. Sex as you well know is the be all and end all of existence for men such as us. Iâm just saying that it must be hard to inspire your uh, self, when you drop your trousers, lay yourself down and receive a pinecone up your crevice.â Jack laughed again at the latest display of Kyleâs enviable wit. âAlso, how in the hell do you manage a hard on up there? It must be freezing in the woods in the dead of night.â That was a question Jack had asked himself before, the answer he came to was a familiar and seemingly impossible one. The supernatural powers that his girlfriend might possess. A truth, or perhaps still just a theory which it would probably be unwise to share with Kyle. âIts not too bad. The trees are pretty close together and they block the wind well enough if you find the right spot. And youâd be surprised what you can bring yourself to ignore when...â Jack shrugged. âPerhaps, but I still canât help but think that more could be achieved in the confines of oneâs own bedroom. Or in your case probably oneâs girlfriendâs own bedroom. Think of it, warmth, a soft surface, no pinecones. Just exposed flesh for the taking.â âYouâre not worried about me are you?â âWho me? No, perish the thought. Itâs no skin off my arse where you fornicate. Do it in the classroom for all I care. But still, you have to ask yourself whether this romantic forest act is worth the trouble?â Silence fell after that. The school building loomed ever closer and the cheery conversation seemed to wilt with the impending French lesson. Kyle meant well in his own crude and callous way, but like his parents he didnât understand the situation. The key difference was that unlike his parents, he wasnât being a complete arsehole about the situation, so Jack found it much easier to stomach his presence. If he was in Kyleâs shoes, he might have said the exact same thing. From an objective point of view, what he was doing was pointless, dangerous and stupid. But the objective point of view didnât take into account the fact that everything that made it pointless, dangerous and stupid was pushed far out of the way. He wished he could explain that to people but apart from the fact that no one would believe him, he still didnât understand what exactly it was that happened when he was with her. Heâd have to talk to her about it. He couldnât keep putting it off. _____________________________________________________________________ Jackâs phone sounded in his pocket. No doubt his mum was going to shriek at him once again for being late home from school. With a heavy sigh, (something that was fast becoming his default expression), he moved to take the offending device from his pocket, but Rebecca grabbed it first. Wrenching it from his pocket she blocked the call, switched the phone off and cast it onto a pile on clothes near her bedroom door. Almost involuntarily, Jack started to lift himself to retrieve it, but Rebecca wasted no time in pushing him back down into the mattress. Wrapping her arms under his neck, she flattened herself against him. He moved his mouth to hers and soon the burning question that he told himself he couldnât avoid suddenly seemed unimportant. Did he really have to know? What did it really matter? This wasnât anything serious after all, hell it wasnât even anything bad. Maybe it was nothing after all. Why make things difficult? The thoughts and suspicions bled out of him as they kissed, there was nothing particularly unnatural about that. Answers could wait. âIs something wrong?â Rebecca asked, pulling her face away from his. âWhat?â Jack asked, startled by this sudden interruption. âYou look distracted.â âDo I?â What had he been doing? Talking to himself? Maybe he should add telepathy to his list of suspicions. âYeah. Whatâs the matter?â Jack looked at her in surprise for a few more moments before sighing and pushing himself up. Rebecca lifted herself off of him and sat to his side. âThis is going to sound a little odd and you might think Iâm a nutcase when Iâm done.â He watched for a response but the face in front of him remained unchanged. She didnât look particularly worried or curious. It was hard to say how she looked, it was impossible to say how she was feeling. âIts difficult to explain. When weâre together, in the forest for example, I canât feel the cold or the mud or twigs on the floor. I mean, I should feel something right? Something uncomfortable? A damp patch? A pine cone in the arse? Whenever Iâm with you, everything feels perfect. I canât even feel hungry. And I need to know whether Iâm so hopelessly in love with you that I can block out the world and all its crap when Iâm with you, or whether thereâs something else happening. Something youâre doing?â For what felt like hours, Rebecca just stared at him, her face unchanging. Apparently the inability to feel anything uncomfortable didnât extend to the growing awkwardness and dread that was growing in his gut. âI was hoping you wouldnât bring this up.â Rebecca answered finally, her voice quiet. âNot yet at least.â Jack felt a sudden surge of excitement. Heâd been right. And that meant⌠Holy Christ! What did that mean? âRebecca.â He said, his voice rushed and clumsy, âWhatâs going on?â âI canât explain it Jack. Itâs just something. Something which I do.â âBut how can you just change what people can feel? Thatâs not possible.â âIf vampires are real then itâs possible youâll be bitten by one one day. If theyâre not, you wonât be. How can you know? Do you think that because thereâs no recorded proof of their existence that they canât possibly exist?â âDo they?â âI donât know.â Rebecca replied, smiling slightly, âJust cause I have a gift or whatever you want to call it doesnât mean that Iâm all knowing Jack. Iâm still me, Iâm still a high school student, Iâm still terrified of snakes, Iâm still addicted to bakewells.â She reached for his hand and clasped it in hers. âIâm still your girlfriend.â She said. Jack nodded, not thinking about why he was doing so. This was all too much for him to take in so quickly. What he knew of the way the world was supposed to work had just been torpedoed. Strangely enough though, it didnât seem to change anything. Rightfully, he thought distantly, a discovery like this should precede a shaking of the world. Massive change on a global scale or something drastic. A somewhat more focused part of him was grateful just to have brought this out into the open and found some kind of answer. Though he still had far more questions then answers. âWhy didnât you want me to bring this up?â âIts not that I planned to keep this from you forever. I just needed to be certain that you werenât going to tell everyone about this. It isnât something I like sharing.â âI can guess why.â He replied, âSo does this kind of thing happen whenever youâre near someone.â âIt only happens when I want it to.â Rebecca said a little uncomfortably. Jack didnât know what to say next. His questions were exhausted, and Rebecca didnât seem too happy to answer them. He still felt confused, he still wasnât sure what this all meant, if in fact it meant anything. When he looked across the bed at his girlfriend he found himself feeling a strange, almost weary intrigue but he also felt tired. This revelation was something he needed time to think about. He needed to be alone for a while. This was an attitude that lasted all of two seconds, when he saw the first uncomfortable twitch on Rebeccaâs face which showed him just how much this unpleasant topic which heâd thrust in her face had hurt her. He wasnât sure why this was, and he doubted heâd find out any time soon. But that didnât matter right now. He placed his free hand on her shoulder and moved his head closer to hers. He opened his mouth to apologize, but somehow that seemed wrong, he didnât think that that was what was needed now. Unsure of exactly what was needed, Jack just sat motionless for a few moments with his mouth quivering in indecision. Fortunately for him, Rebecca seemed to understand what he was trying to do. She kissed him on the cheek before pushing herself off of the bed and started to pace slowly. She always did this when she was thinking. âYou know,â She said, her voice shifting between hesitant and hopeful, âThereâs no reason why you couldnât learn to do the kind of things I do?â âReally?â Jack couldnât help but feel excited about this prospect. The prospect of obtaining âsuper powersâ was a childhood dream that never really abandoned him. It probably never truly abandoned anyone. âIt depends on you. Whether or not you canâŚâ From downstairs, Jack heard the sound of a door closing. Rebeccaâs head swung around to face the direction the sound had come from and she parted with a frustrated sigh. âYou need to get out of here.â She said, grabbing Jackâs phone from the clothes pile and tossing it to him. âRight.â Jack said quickly, now understandably nervous at the prospect of one of Rebeccaâs relatives, probably a parent catching him in her bedroom. âWhatâs the best way out?â The sound of footsteps on wood began to grow progressively louder. âRebecca.â Came a shout from outside the bedroom. The voice was male and presumably belonged to her father. âWait here.â She said, moving towards the door. She stopped herself however with her hand hovering over the handle and stood motionless for a few moments. Moving her hand away she moved back towards Jack and hugged him. Jack was reluctant to return the embrace, being currently more concerned about getting out before any awkward introductions had to take place. A knock on the door sent an icy chill up Jackâs spine. He tried to pull himself off of Rebecca and make his way to the window, (not that scaling the wall was a particularly great idea but it was the only one he had). Her grip remained firm however. âYou are all I care about.â She said softly. And then she was gone. That was the first thing he noticed. For one instant, all Jack could sense was a numbness in his head which blocked out everything. Blackness was all he could see and the air around him felt cold. His breathing was shallow and laboured. His mind was operating too sluggishly for him to panic properly, though distantly he thought that that might be a reasonable thing to do. Gradually his focus came crawling back. Vague shapes began to form in the blackness, he realised that there was a soft surface under him. Whatever it was, he was lying on it. His breathing began to grow steadier, the air he was breathing in began to feel less cold. A familiar grey shape in a distant corner caught his attention. He couldnât quite put his finger on what it was, his mind was still too sluggish to come up with any decent possibilities, but it still looked familiar. With a grunt, Jack pushed himself up on his elbows and focused on the object. After rubbing his eyes he found the detail was clearer, and he soon identified what he was seeing as his wardrobe. Realisation came quickly after that. He was back home, in his room and on his bed. Rebecca had (as incongruous as it would certainly sound), teleported him back to his room. But that really was impossible. Controlling what people felt was one thing, wasnât it? This however, this was something that heâd never be able to twist into something small and manageable. His knowledge of how the world worked had taken a second fatal blow in a matter of minutes. He didnât know what that meant, but he knew he needed to sleep now. He needed to get away from it all, if only for an hour or two. His arms still felt numb as he moved them to the sides and lowered them onto the pillow. Jack soon found himself considerably more energized however when the door to his bedroom burst open and his mother stepped through. When she saw him, she looked like sheâd seen a ghost. âWhere the hell have you been?â She was almost shouting. âWhat?â âIâve tried to phone you at least ten times already.â âSorry,â he said blankly, with everything that had happened he didnât really feel up to this, his excuses came out laboured. âThe battery crapped out on me.â She sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. âIâve told you to charge that bloody thing every evening. What was the point of us buying it for you if youâre not going to take care of it? And just where the hell have you been?â Jack forced a yawn, only one possible answer presented itself, and it wasnât one he was too enthused about. Still, he couldnât think of anything better and he had to answer soon. âIâve been here.â He replied scathingly. âWhat?â âI got home, I was tired, I came up here, and I fell asleep.â His mother stared at him for a while, Jack was sure that she knew he was lying. âI didnât hear you come in.â She said finally, she seemed a little embarrassed. Jack shrugged in response and for a moment there was nothing but silence. âLet me know when you get home next time. I worry sometimes.â Yeah, Iâve noticed that. Just think how much easier life would be for both of us if you didnât. âFine, whatever.â His mother lurked near the doorway for another long moment before she finally left, leaving the door wide open. Jack still felt too weak to get up and close it. With the final distraction seemingly passed, he closed his eyes and let sleep come. _____________________________________________________________________ âMeet me at the St. Jude street bridge at 10AM tomorrow. We can make things perfect. â Rebeccaâ Jack had read that text message at least fifty times since he received it the following evening. An irrational fear that he might have misread something or that the words might have twisted themselves into something new when he wasnât looking had worked its way into his head and wouldnât let go until this was all done with. Make everything perfect? Jack didnât even want to consider what she might mean by that. The possibilities that presented themselves either seemed ludicrous (not that he really had any rightful claim to a sense of ludicrousness all things considered), or else just plain worrying. It was crowded in the city. The streets were brim full of determined looking mothers dragging unwilling families around the town in search of pine furniture for their new patios or something to that effect, thereby ruining a perfectly good Saturday which could be spent doing far more productive things like oversleeping or creating a freakish fusion of tuna, bananas and digestives, which was a lot nicer then it sounded. Jack watched as the dayâs gathering of shoppers passed by from one side of the bridge to the other. Conversation typically consisted of someone dictating the next shop to visit or a group of googly eyed teenagers chortling in unison about how their new phones were so much better then their old ones. (Which they had probably bought only two months back). If nothing else though they were at least providing Jack with some much welcome distraction. The full implications of what heâd experienced the previous day were still lost on Jack, and he was still in no mood to think about them. He was beginning to doubt that a confused and solitary over analysis would solve anything. He needed to speak to Rebecca again. Find out more and try and get some kind of idea as to exactly what was happening. âYou came.â Rebecca said, her sudden appearance making Jack jump. She looked like sheâd been chased the whole way here, her breathing was heavy and laboured, and the fear on her face was obvious. Before Jack could answer she threw her arms around him, and he could tell that she was shaking. âWhatâs wrong?â He asked. âNothing, not anymore, maybe.â âWhat?â âI didnât know if youâd come or not. I wasnât sure if you could face what Iâd shown you.â Jack waited a moment before replying. âI canât ignore this.â âWhy?â âWhat do you mean?â âWhy did you come here?â She was bordering on hysterical. âRebecca, calm down.â âI canât calm down. I donât have enough time! We donât have enough time!â âYouâre not making any sense.â Jack tried to keep his voice calm, but it wasnât easy, gently, he extracted himself from her grasp and asked âWhat the hell is going on?â Rebecca stared at him for a long moment with tear soaked eyes. Jackâs confusion had reached its apex, but at the sight of his girlfriend in tears his frustration promptly melted. He reached forward with one hand and wiped away the tears that were running down her face. Rebecca rubbed at her eyes and for a few moments stared at the floor. âCan you tell me whatâs wrong?â He asked quietly. âWe can escape.â She said, her expressions and voce now nothing but icy resolve. It was as if she had exhausted her supply of emotional output. âEscape? Escape what?â âAll of it. All the obstacles, all the disapproval, all the pain. We can leave this world behind. I know a way, somewhere else, somewhere for us.â Jack was dumbfounded. He still didnât understand what was happening, and the way Rebecca was talking he wasnât entirely sure that he wanted to. âLetâs go somewhere.â He said, âLetâs talk about this.â âNo. Iâm sorry Jack, but weâre out of time. I canât stay here anymore.â She shuddered at the thought of something unpleasant. What was she so worried about? âIâm going. I want you to come with me. I want us to be free. But whatever you do, Iâm going.â âI donât know what youâre talking about.â He said, âBut, I canât just pack up my life and leave. I couldnât do that to my family or friends.â âItâs not like that.â She said, pausing to try and find the right words, âWe leave, but part of us remains, A shadow. A pound of flesh maybe. An echo. Something of ourselves that carries on here in our place. No one gets hurt.â âEr,â His ignorance and scepticism made it difficult for him to form questions, âWould we be able to get back?â âWe wonât want to.â For a long while, Jack stared at Rebecca as if sheâd just asked him to slice off his arms and throw himself in the river. Maybe she had for all he knew. From what he could make out, she was offering him an escape from his life. They could go somewhere else, God only knew where. They could be together, but how would that work in wherever they went. It was enough, he didnât know nearly enough about what Rebecca was offering, and in spite of all he had been through, part of his brain was determined not to believe her and the things she could do. What was obvious was that he had a choice. He could fling himself headlong into the unknown with Rebecca, to another world it seemed. Whether this would be for better or worse was something he wouldnât find out until he got there. The other option was to stick with his current life, but if he did that he would lose Rebecca. What would be left for him if she went away? Ridicule, boredom, humiliation, suppressed anger? But at least it would be familiar. At least heâd know what he faced and would have some residue of control left. That might be comforting, but if he was honest, that wasnât enough. There was nothing good here for him. âLetâs go.â He whispered. âYouâre sure?â There was no denying the excitement and relief in Rebeccaâs voice now. âYes, whatever this is youâre talking about, letâs get it done before I have time to think about it.â Rebecca took both of Jackâs hands in his own. Something changed within him as they touched. He could feel something out of place in his head. It was like an amused contempt. He could feel the way the world was supposed to be and he knew that he didnât have to pay attention to that any more. This scared him, and he had to resist the urge to push this new feeling away. This shouldnât be possible, but so what? âLetâs fly together.â Rebecca said happily. Whatever it was she had been afraid of apparently no longer mattered, âMaybe the rest of them will learn something.â Jack nodded and abruptly found that flight felt as instinctive to him as the use of his arms. âI love you.â Rebecca added. âI love you too.â Jack replied, bending forward and kissing his soul mate. âYouâre all I care about.â Both of them found themselves grinning like idiots. With the bitter winter chill now replaced by a cool breeze, the two of them ascended slowly into the air. A few moments later the first of the disbelieving gasps and cries of astonishment broke out among the crowd below. Neither Jack nor Rebecca paid them any attention. Keeping their left hands clasped together, the two turned to face the world that they were leaving behind. All eyes were on them now. Who knew, maybe some of those people below would be doing the same thing as they were doing now some day. They started moving forward, slowly at first, and then fast enough to make everything below them a blur. Jack turned to face Rebecca, who was laughing softly with him in jubilant triumph as a warm, white light began to engulf them both. The End |