Vices

Chapter 22

  As we all hustle down the alleyway to our van, my anxiety makes every noise sound exponentially louder. A shifting bag glides down the alley, pushing and pulling itself over ancient debris. The tattered remains of old cardboard boxes house a colony of bony mice. The tiny holes in the old brown cubes show the marks left by their tenants.

  I hear and then see a mangy old brown tabby, eyes red from the blowing cold, gnawing at the remains of an emaciated mouse. It continues eating the mouse frantically, who’s really only skin and bones, determined to get as much from it as it can.

  I know something about scavenging. In fact, I know everything about scavenging: where to look, what to look for, how to tell if it’s good, how to tell if it’ll kill me, and of course, who I have to keep it from. My travels left me skilled in the trade and I had it down to a science, but I do know one thing, that scavenging is not scavenging when you help another. If it comes down to scavenging, you are the only person you should think about, or you will fall out of this race of the fittest.

  I recall a time during my wandering years when I came upon a free man lying on the dusty ground; he was a starving one, but a free one. I had enough clean water to last me until I made it to the next town and the dry-throated, sulking man had none. He begged and pleaded with me, telling me of his dead family, of how he had dragged himself along the very road we had stood on, and he promised that he would be forever thankful, that he would even help me with something. At that time, my conscience was so sensitive to other stragglers that I couldn’t help but believe him. As I handed him my water, I knew I had made the wrong decision. I saw it in his eyes the moment his shriveled fingers wrapped around the one thing keeping me alive at the time. His eyes were dark, but pleading. But I knew there was something else behind those eyes, a thought, a desperate wish, and a terrible scheme for whomever he came upon.

  As soon as he had my water in his hands, he bolted. I had no time to react and my foolishness caused a deep burn to spread across my face. How could I be so naïve? How could I have made such a poor decision? I had lived alone in the world for over three years and I still hadn’t grasped onto the simplest reality that existed: that I was completely and utterly alone. I have never felt the amount of shame I felt that night, nor do I think I ever will again. I had always thought that I was strong, that because of my endurance and my diligence, that I would be able to survive. But that day, I knew that I was not as perfect as I had thought previously. In this world there are those who die and those who live, and the ones who live are the ones who take.

  I turn my eyes away from the cat, wishing to forget the primal instincts that come with being a scavenger.

  The alleyway is quiet, except for an occasional moan of pain let out by Kane. His arm is wrapped over Kael’s shoulder, keeping him propped up and walking. I glance over to Kael, whose normally strict expression is letting relief slide through just a little bit. Key words being a little bit; he really does hide his emotions quite well. I have no doubt that talent has helped him stay focused as the troupe’s leader.

  The trek back to the van is quiet, and once we reach the van, we all let out an unconscious sigh of relief.

  With a sharp rap on the van door from Kael, Edan opens the van quickly and Taylor and Kane head into the back. Kael stops me before I can slide in after Taylor.

  “Come be an extra set of eyes up front, love.” I don’t argue.

  As I position myself comfortably on the dark blue leather passenger seat, I can’t help but feel different. There’s something different—no—something, er, new about me. Either that or a feeling that has not long been felt is resurfacing. I would say that I feel happy, but that’s not quite it. I feel empowered. Yes, that’s it. And it’s not only that, but I feel hopeful. Like really truly hopeful.

  Unbeknownst to me, an ever so slight smile has spread upon my lips and Kael has taken notice.

  “You know, that was really somethin’ ye did back there. What with tellin’ that lad off and whatnot,” he smiles. “It was refreshin’ hearing someone speak their mind.” He lets out a low chuckle and turns on the car. He pushes the van into drive and it rolls through the alley quickly. He turns onto a side road and we begin the drive back to the mansion.

  My smile grows to a grin and I laugh as well.

  “Yeah, sometimes my filter turns off and I can’t help but blab everything on my mind.”

  “Well, I don’t blame you for yellin’ at him. He had it coming; if you hadn’t jumped in so quickly, I would’ve had a couple choice words with that lad.”

  After a couple back and forth comments on Guerra, the two of us settle in and relax in the comfortable silence. A question conjures itself up in my head and I want to ask it, but the silence is somewhat refreshing, I don’t want to break it.

  “That filter of yours is up again, isn’t it?”

  I look over at Kael, whose lips are turned up in a smile, but whose eyes are still focused on the road. “Yeah, the adrenaline has kind of worn off.”

  “Well, say what’s on yer mind, love. I’m not one to judge, even if it’s a stupid question.”

  “Um well okay, where exactly is the mansion? I can’t say I even know what the exterior of it looks like. I’m always trapped in the back of a van.”

  “A ways out into the country. It seems to block half o’ the countryside. It’s a dark hunter green, with dark grey shingles. It’s not the friendliest looking place, but it’s home,” he says lovingly.

  The word home sends a sharp stab to my heart. I can’t even remember really what it’s like to have a home, what it’s like to be among people who love you unconditionally, what it’s like to feel completely safe and secure. The wound in my heart that’s been shifting and deforming my innards and every memory of my family almost seems to burst at that word. Home.

  But there’s another thought lurking within the festering callous, a thought that gives me hope and makes me want to beg the heavens for what it’s asking for. That thought is love. It’s the thought that has been embedded in every single person on the planet since they had Valentine’s Day celebrations as a child. It’s the thought that inspires art, music, films, and even the very existence of life. It’s the supreme idea that drives humanity to exist, it emulates all the good and truth that has ever existed in the world, and it’s one of the few things that can help to change the world. And its predecessor is hope, which happens to be the other strong player in my heart.

  Wow I sound like a hippie.

  I cannot help but smile at the thought, a thought that had seemed so impossible, so improbable for the past five years of my life. Here I am, around people who share the same vision, who have the same gusto pushing them for a new beginning, but most importantly, I sit by those who are free. As I sit here in this rusty scarred van, I can’t help but think of how fortunate I am to be here, how fortunate that I am still alive.

  I chance a look at the man who’s beginning to change my views on how I see myself and how I see my future. I have spoken with him a little in the past couple of days, but I feel a connection that I’ve never felt with anyone else. Not only do I feel like he is a friend, and a close one at that, but I also feel like there’s something more. Something else that can show that there is still truth and good left in this world.

  Perhaps I’m just smitten, but I have my reasons to feel the way I do. I can tell he cares, for every time I’ve struggled around him, he’s always quick to come to my rescue. And not only that, but whenever I’m focused on something, I can feel his eyes on me, gazing with that careful yet curious look he seems to use so often. My mind can’t help but remember this morning when he picked me up and kept me closer for much longer than he needed to.

  There’s this dark radiation that Kael gives off that’s not so much depression or evil, but a deepness about him. He obviously knows and thinks more than he lets people catch on. Like thick red blood flowing through a complex series of veins, he carries knowledge of every process, every thing,
and every person at the mansion. He is the heart. He keeps the whole process going. I think he wants to lead people to believe he’s a perfectly determined man, and that he won’t let the members of the mansion down.

  Underneath the now thicker dark stubble on his face, I can see creases showing his age or perhaps they’re merely marks left from the things he’s been, the things he’s seen, or the things he’s lost. His face does not sag, but is a face of a man who’s travelled far and wide and who’s done everything in his power to do the right thing. The lines near his eyes spread as he lifts a curious eyebrow at me.

  “Yeh know, I think yeh should stay with us, but uh, I’m not forcing ye or anythin’—you can think about it as long as yeh need to,” he says matter-of-factly as he steers the van through the last turn of the city. “Ye can let me know your decision later.”

  These are the words I’d been waiting to hear since I had lost my family, which seemed like a thousand years ago. I have to take in a deep breath before I can respond.

  “Okay, I guess I could think about it and you know, get back to you,” I pause, completely taken aback by his offer. A smile, that’s as genuine as a smile can get, spreads across my face.

  “Good.” He breathes in a deep breath. “Good.” I’m guessing the second good was probably an unconscious reassurance his heart was sending to his brain.

  “The real question is where I’m going to sleep though.”

  “Well, if we can’t find yeh a place, I’ll leave room for ye in me bed,” he says in an uncommitted manner.

  Wow, he can actually flirt. What would Kane say if he knew about this?

  I can’t help but smile and he takes in another deep breath, obviously relieved that I didn’t say “ew” or “um no thanks”. That first strike at flirting is always the hardest, not to mention awkward when it runs awry.

  I give him a playful interrogating look, “Is it a twin?”

  “You think I’d fit on a twin? Hell no,” he chuckles. “It’s a King. In fact, I live in the most secluded room in the house. It’s behind me office.”

  “Aha, the door behind your desk?”

  “Aye.”

  “The entrance to your bat cave...” I say with a wag of my eyebrows.

  “I really don’t see meself much as Batman. I see meself more like Wolverine.”

  “You’re more into the tearing apart of individuals than the butt-kicking ninja fights?”

  “Mmmhmm. And I’m not afraid o’ bats. Not at all. Used to see ‘em all the time as a kid, I even used to go out with me friends and try n’ find their caves. Didn’t find ‘em often, but we always had a blast while we explored.”

  “You like the outdoors, don’t you?”

  “Aye, I love it. Nothin’ like walking ‘round with a cool breeze rollin’, an’ feeling Mother Nature wrap her gentle arms around ye,” he pauses, eyes scanning the road up ahead. “Ever since they did all the crap to the atmosphere with the shooting off of the toxins n’ whatnot, I’ve had a hard time acceptin’ Mother Nature as she is. It makes me sad.” Kael’s voice is gentle and even, but his tone is poignant. I know how he feels. I used to be quite the outdoorsy type back in the day, although I suppose you could consider me to still be the outdoorsy type, with the wandering around the country and whatnot. It is hard to see one of the beautiful places that you’d always counted on to be there, suddenly change and morph into something disgusting.

  “I think She’ll heal—eventually, of course,” I say. “I don’t think the Earth is as easily tamable as people think it is. People have always said humans are ruining the atmosphere, water, and forests, but I don’t think we give enough credit to the earth. It has a lot more power than we count on. She can bounce back.”

  “Ye think so?”

  “Yeah, I really don’t think that the Earth’s lost the never-ending battle with humanity. We may be a powerful, manipulative race, but we aren’t God.”

  Saying that word—“God”—just makes me wonder, makes me think, and makes me feel even more alone, which I know is wrong.

  Suddenly, a rapping at the wall between the front seats and the back space brings the two of us back to reality. Kael slides open a window in the wall, revealing Edan, who looks rather amused by our startled expressions.

  “Sorry boss, did I interrupt something?”

  “Nah, what is it?”

  “Taylor has a tracking device chained onto her ankle. We need to pull over and break it off so we don’t lead them straight to the base.”

  As soon as Edan finishes explaining, Kael veers the van off the main road and onto a wide dirt road.

  Kael and I slide out of the front seat and open the side door to the back to find Taylor looking rather frustrated. Kael brings out an industrial-sized flashlight and shines it at Taylor’s ankle, revealing the device.

  “It’s like this thing is made of steel or something. I had a makeshift blade in my cell and I worked on cutting it off every single day. I only got through maybe a fourth of a fourth of a fourth of an inch of it.”

  “Edan, ye seen anythin’ like this?” Kael asks.

  “So you got through 1/64th of an inch?” Kane asks.

  Kael shoots Kane a look. “I’m the one asking questions here.”

  “Yeah, it’s a synthetic material the government created to replicate crystallized carbon.” Our dumbfounded looks reassure Edan that he’s still much smarter than we are. “Diamonds.”

  “But it’s black,” Kane mutters from the seat to the left.

  “As I said—it’s synthetic, as in, it’s manmade. They can control its appearance to look however they want.”

  “So how exactly do we break it off?” Kael asks.

  “We just need some variably powerful acid,” he says with a smirk. “And it just so happens I have some.”

  Kane and Kael exchange a look while Edan shifts through the contents in a drawer of his desk. “Aha,” he exclaims.

  “So, erm, Edan, you have any other hidden stashes of toxic chemicals hidden around?” Kael scratches his head. “I’m not gonna take ‘em or anything, just wanna know if I should stay out of certain drawers or storage bins.”

  “No, not really, I have an extra cache in my room, but I’m guessing you won’t be looking around in my room for any reason.” He says this with a casual grin.

  “I just don’t want anybody mistakin’ it for their favourite beverage and dying a horrible death. Just tryin’ to watch out for the whole gang here.”

  “I promise it’s in a safe place, and anyways, if I didn’t have a secret cache, we would certainly be in a pickle right now, am I right?”

  “Yeah,” we all say in unison.

  “Well then, no need to worry your perfect little heads about my hidden acid stashes. And no, Kane, I’m not talking about the drug.”

  Kane wags his eyebrows at Edan and snickers.

  “Idiot.”

  “So much animosity here! Just focus on the task at hand,” Taylor interjects with an irritated tone. “Please.” She looks stressed as she looks down at the dark tracking device on her ankle. It looks just like the house arrest anklets they’d use back when there was still courts and justice, but thicker and evidently much harder to break off.

  Edan shakes the small red bottle he holds in his hand quickly and unscrews the lid, being careful not to spill. He takes an eyedropper out of his other pocket and sucks the translucent red liquid up into it.

  “Taylor, don’t you dare move, okay?”

  “You can count on me.”

  Edan positions the dropper over the tracking device with such painstaking precision that Kane has the chance to let out three or four sighs during the whole process. Kael and I on the other hand, hardly breathe at all.

  With a single squeeze, a drop of the red liquid falls onto the device and burns through the anklet in about the same time. Edan takes out another dropper and sucks the residue back in quickly, making sure it doesn’t just burn through Taylor’s skin while it’s at it.
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  With a harsh jerk, Edan rips the anklet off of Taylor, forever severing her from her prison.

  We all let out a sigh in unison, Taylor’s being extra deep.

  “So why exactly did it just come off so easily?” Kane asks.

  “Because I made sure to place it over the internal mechanism that controls the tracking device, which is the weakest point on the anklet.”

  “Ohhhhh”. The still confused look on Kane’s face correlates to the percentage of what he understood of Edan’s explanation: 0%. And that same percentage would also be the same as the percentage of Kane understanding anything Edan says.

  “I don’t care how he got it off, I’m just glad it’s off.” Taylor rubs the raw skin thankfully.

  “Alright, everybody back in. We need to get back to the mansion before the sun catches us.”

  “Aye aye captain!” Kane salutes mockingly. Kael and Edan groan.

  “Couldn’t we have just left him in the prison?” Edan asks innocently.

  “Probably woulda been a good idea. Hey—maybe next time,” Kael chuckles.

  As we settle back into the front seat, I can’t help but think how relieved Kael must feel, with getting Taylor out and whatnot. “So, it must feel good to have the whole crew back, right?”

  “Aye, it feels... really good,” he admits softly. “Taylor really gets on me nerves sometimes--she’s a real sassy thing--but she’s still a part of the family. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know,” I whisper, suddenly thrown back in time to when I still lived with my family, when I still lived like any normal person should. I hardly feel the car lurch back into drive as my thoughts begin to race again.

  I can hardly remember what it felt like to be with people who’d do anything for you, what it felt like to feel safe and relieved every night you came home, what it felt like to be home.

  The lazy days spent with my dad watching movies and watching him cry during the sappy parts of the movies. The frantic hours before a family gathering was to take place at my house, rushing around helping my mom with everything she needed done. Laying out in the sun or under the stars with Zeus, listening to him squawk at the vagrant birds getting too close to me.

  The thought of Zeus sends a twinge of sadness and guilt pouring through my body. I could still have him if I wasn’t so heartless.

  Two years had passed since I had lost my family and it had been a rather hard week on the two of us, we’d been struggling with having too little supplies and Zeus would not quit squawking at me.

  “JUST GO,” I shouted at the dark shape perched in front of me.

  Zeus had always been an incredibly intelligent bird, always listening to my commands and never getting us into trouble, but today his squawks were like static— they never stopped. They pulsated through the air, saturating a previously dead silent countryside with a horrid noise. The kind of noise that could drive an individual insane if exposed to it long enough.

  “YOU STUPID ROTTEN BIRD, YOU’RE GOING TO GET US CAUGHT.”

  But Zeus was not a stupid bird, nor was he even slightly rotten. And those words stung in his little crow heart like penicillin in a wound.

  Crows are not usually brought up in conversation for their beauty or their charm, but Zeus was different. He had this uncanny effect on people. After meeting him, people would have a different outlook on crows and their bias caused by watching too many horror movies would change. They would say, “What a proud bird.” “You’re lucky you’ve got such a great bird, Aidan.” “I thought all crows were evil.” And no, he wasn’t the Jesus Christ of crows, but he was an exceptionally bright, caring, devoted pet. And those words that I said, in that thoughtless angry rage, will always be with me.

  After I had said them, I knew the damage had been done. A silence fell on us two friends, a silence that seems to pull and yank at my innards every time I think of it. Zeus’s regal demeanor fell to that of a lowly beggar. His head bent over in shame, his wings brought back to his side in a contorted, forced manner. But that was not what hit me the hardest, that is not what would forever be the final memory of my old best friend, the friend that led me through the newly formed wilderness, the friend that stayed by my side—forever loyal, the friend that I was spouting off at, even though I had no idea what he was squawking about.

  No, that memory, that dark, pitiful, heartbreaking thought will be forever remembered as my cruelest moment.

  By the time he had lowered himself to me, I had realized my life-changing fault, and had stretched out my hand in a last attempt to say I’m sorry, to say I never meant the things I said, that I loved him more than anything alive, but I was too late.

  I looked to him, to his thimble-sized eyes, and saw in them a wholly defeated bird. A bird that you would find on the sidewalk after having been attacked by a street-mongering cat, a bird that had no life left in it. He had lost his life in those words, in those words that cut like razors into his kind skin. We had been friends since the moment my dad brought him home to me, but I had sliced that thread that kept the two of us tied together. I cannot remember a day where I wouldn’t have come home from school to find Zeus waiting patiently for me, squawking in rejoice when he watched me walk through my bedroom door.

  But he did have one thing left, one thing that brought him back to where he came from. His primal instinct told him one thing and one thing only: to leave. The instinct keeps animals from trusting humans, which keeps them from getting too close; that very instinct is what surfaced in his brain and commanded him to leave. In his mind, he had nothing else he could do.

  And with one powerful flap of his wings, he was gone. And with him, so did my self-respect. It’s one thing to tell a friend off and apologize, but it is another thing entirely to upset them in a way that can never be repaired, that can never be erased from their memory. And this is what I did that day, I destroyed a piece of myself and a piece of Zeus; the piece that opened our hearts to each other and always held that resolute promise of friendship.

  I remember sitting there, stunned and broken, looking up into the graphite-gray sky and watching my only connection to my family or my past fly away into oblivion. It was as if some great hand had descended from heaven and had wrapped its rough calloused fingers around my throat, constricting my lungs with every breath. My defenses were down and I was at fate’s mercy, twitching under the gargantuan palm, not knowing whether I would just be struck down right then and there. But, He had other plans for me, and for that reason He eased his grip and I felt air flow through my lungs freely again.

  As I sat against the coarse wood of the leftovers of that barn, I felt and watched my chest rise and fall like a living person’s would. But something had changed within me, something that would not be noticed from the outside, but from the inside. You could not tell by the beat of my heart, the blink of my eyes, the itch on my back, nor could you tell by the cuts on my skin, the blood on my shirt, or the cramps in my legs. The thing; that weird, otherworldly, completely enigmatic energy that resides in every single living being, that was what was damaged.

  This is the force that binds us, that twists through every inch of us, that converges, that connects, that flows, that collects, and even sometimes seemingly disappears. It’s the force that makes us human, that makes us more than just an animal or a plant. It’s our conscience, our soul, our integrity. It’s the thing inside of us that we should all be thankful we have, because without it, we would be nothing more than sheep, being led through our lives with no resolve for change or self-progression.

  From that moment on, I noticed a void in that force. It was an emptiness that kept me awake at night, but also brought a new characteristic of mine into the light— diligence. I became diligent. I felt as though I had to keep going, that it wasn’t just about me. It was about Zeus, my parents, my friends, my family, and every other lost soul. I no longer felt that giving up was an option.

  The months following Zeus’ leaving, my wandering sort of took a turn for t
he crazy. I would allow that unseen hand to lead me blindly through the countryside, walking through open fields, hopping over dried brooks, lying on my back staring up at the unchanged night sky. It was the only thing that seemed the same. The twinkling balls of fire were always plotted out in the sky where they’d been before this world had ended. In the south, I could spot the club-wielding warrior Orion, and next to him, the big shining dog, Sirius. Up above, Aurega kept watch over these Midwestern fields I found my shelter in.

  My thoughts circled and turned like the universe, wondering whether humanity was as alone in the universe as I felt on Earth. Perhaps another planet that had roots similar to that of Earth’s was suffering a calamity like ours, and perhaps someone there was looking up at the sky and looking at our sun and wondering the same thing about us.

  And as I lay there on the ground that had been warmed by the summer sun, I couldn’t help but feel at home. I figured that whoever created this great universe of ours had a plan, and that they’d made sure that even if we were lost, that we could be found. That home was not as stationary as the stars, but as ever-changing as the Earth. I suppose someone can never be truly lost. They’re merely on the path that will lead them to their fate.

  That reminder brings me back to reality, back to the scratched van hauling these people that I’ve known for three days at most, who have regarded me as a friend.

  I look over to Kael, who’s got one eye on the road and one eye on me.

  “You sure do keep a lot o’ bits of information stored up in that brain o’ yers, don’t yeh?”

  I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I guess my mind is basically the only thing I’ve been living with for the past five years. I can’t really help it anymore.”

  “Well remember this,” his voice is soft, but firm. “You’re among friends now; we aren’t gonna send ye off or turn you in or anything like that. Whether ye choose to stay with us or go on your own way, we won’t betray ye. I promise you that.”

  “I didn’t expect you to,” I say honestly. “One thing I don’t feel from this group is greed or malice towards one another. Believe me, I trust you.”

  “Ye are a very smart girl.” He gives me a genuine smile. It’s the kind of smile that an actor or actress only dreams of perfecting.

  “Thanks, but I’d guess that if you knew me better, you’d rethink that last thought,” I admit with a laugh.

  “Nah, I don’t think I would. And don’t try to change me mind to think otherwise. Alright?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  In the distance, I can spot the sun creeping up over the horizon, allowing light to filter through the gray snow-filled clouds. I also spot a lone cardinal sitting on a barbed wire fence, casting a long shadow on the ashen field. I think back to my father and his love of birds. “The red one’s a male,” he would say. “It has to look as bright and vibrant as possible, so it can get all the ladies.”

  Sometimes I think to myself and wonder what my dad thinks about me now. I wonder if he’s as disappointed in me as I am after having sent Zeus away, but then again I don’t really think that’s possible.

  A question pops into my head, and I can’t stop myself from asking it.

  “Kael, do you have a wife?”

  The question seems to knock him out of his fearless, dominant visage, and a softer, more compassionate man seems to surface.

  “No, never have.” If you looked at him, all you’d see is his poker face, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. Like two clouded crystal balls, they hold the truth, but are unwilling to reveal it.

  “I didn’t mean to-.”

  “Ye didn’t hurt me feelings, love,” he interjects.

  “Well still, it was out of line to even ask—”

  “No, no, it wasn’t,” he says earnestly. “You had a question, so ye asked it. It isn’t a crime to speak your mind around me. I’m not as much of a hard ass as people expect me to be.”

  “Well, I’m still sorry,” I say.

  “Dammit, Aidan! Don’t be.” He looks at me carefully, his gaze nothing short of pleading. “I mean it. Don’t you ever say you’re sorry to me again. Ye’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  My arbitrary response of “I’m sorry” almost spills out of my mouth, but I stop myself, trying to think of what else I could say.

  “Ye know, I’ve never been asked that before. I figured everyone had enough common sense about me as a person to know I’m a single lad.”

  His response boggles me. “Why would you say that?”

  “Well because as I said before, I’m a hard ass. Girls fall in love with sweet, loving, compassionate fellows, fellows that take ye on dates and flatter ye with gifts and compliments and love. Women don’t fall in love with my type. They may try a guy like me out, but they never keep ‘em. We’re play-only, no commitments involved.”

  “Well that’s just stupid.” I feel my eyebrow rise in bewilderment.

  “Why ye say that?”

  “Because! That’s like saying girls aren’t attracted to masculine, leading, charitable kinds of guys. That’s like saying they’re only interested in men who are as sensitive as they are, and honestly, not all girls want a guy who will cry with you if you’re watching a chick flick.”

  “Baloney. Girls like guys who’ll bend for them, who will change for them, and honestly, love, I don’t want to change. I’m quite happy with who I am.”

  “But what if you found a girl, a girl who was the peanut butter to your jelly.”

  “Me what?”

  I pause, suddenly dumbstruck by myself. “That might’ve been one of the dumbest things I’ve ever said.” He looks at me, still wondering what I meant.

  “It’s an expression.” I ponder for a moment, trying to sum up my thoughts as well as I can. “Kael, what if you found a girl you didn’t have to change for? What if you loved everything she was and everything she wasn’t? What if being with her meant all of your boundaries in life were gone and you saw things in an entirely new light?”

  “I don’t know, love. I’ve never met a girl like that.”

  “Exactly. So what if you did? What if you did tomorrow? Or next week? Would you really just say, ‘Eh, I’d rather not. I’m comfortable living in me own little protective bubble’?” I add in a mock Scottish accent to drive my point.

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Then stop bashing girls. Just imagine being able to live in a way that was totally new, that made you feel completely undivided, completely whole, and completely, well, right as a person. I can’t help but hope for something like that, because I know I’ll never be perfect by myself. I need balance in my life, and I know for sure that as a person, I am completely off balance.”

  As I stop venting and begin to catch my breath, I look to Kael, who seems to be pondering something rather carefully.

  “See, love? You’re definitely not stupid.” He gives me an impressed smirk.

  I give out a small grunt in response, surprised at how well he always seems to time things. It seems like he’s always coming up with something witty at the right moment. If anything, I’d call him charming.

  “Kael, may I ask you something else?”

  “Sure, if ye must,” he says as he pulls the van up a rather slick hill. As we reach the top, I can see the sun sliding through the gray clouds on the horizon. The clouds look like orange and strawberry snow cones.

  “Why are you single? And no, I can tell it’s not because you are incapable of altering your lifestyle. I know something about having an altered lifestyle. In fact, everyone who’s alive knows something about having an altered lifestyle.” I pause, taking a deep breath to finish off my last sentence. Kael notices and chuckles at how comical I must look. “Do you have a bad past with women or something?”

  “No, I-,” he stops himself, obviously making his thoughts into coherent words. “I’ve just never really had the chance to fall in love. You know, real love and whatnot. The kind of love that you were just
rantin’ about.” I can see honesty in his eyes, but his response is rather surprising to me.

  “Oh” is all I can say. Honestly, I kind of figured he was a lady killer or something along the lines of that. What with his brazen gait, his well-lined jaw, his commanding voice, his able hands, and his thoughtful sea-foam eyes.

  “Yeah, go ahead; make fun of me all ye want in your head. Just remember, if I ever end up with a girl, it means I really, truly, love her.”

  I can’t help but let out a smile. “I’m not making fun of you. I promise. Girls like guys who’re honest. Believe me, honesty is one of the most important things you’d want in a good relationship. Without it you’re just some scumbag. Chicks dig it.”

  “Good to know. So if I tell ye you have dirt on your forehead, does that mean we have a good relationship?”

  My swift reflexes kick in in no time. I flip the visor down on the ceiling and look in horror as a line of dirt the size of my thumb graces the center of my forehead. I take my sleeve and wipe it off quickly, uncaring of the condition of my sweatshirt. Ugh.

  I glance back to Kael and give him the most convincing angry look I can, but unfortunately I can’t help but laugh.

  As we finally pull into a long winding driveway, I can’t help but feel this weird feeling inside. I feel happy. That’s what it is, happiness.

  It’s strange how the little things in life are taken for granted, but then once you hit a time in your life where monotony and routine is all there is, they start meaning a lot more to you. Perhaps monotony and control won’t be such dominant aspects of my life. Maybe there’s a lot more to it than that.

  As I glance around the massive front yard, I can’t help but be perplexed by how perfectly trimmed the huge bushes are. It looks like someone was probably out within the last hour doing the lawn work.

  Rows of dark green hedges, the height of an average-sized man, adorn either side of the driveway, keeping the rest of the front yard hidden from view.

  “What’s behind all of the hedges?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible, hoping that if it’s a secret, I can get an answer.

  “More hedges. The entire front yard is a maze of these hedges. I guess the fella who lived here before had a thing with mazes, or perhaps with hedges. I can’t really be sure.”

  “So who was the guy who lived here?”

  “Ulysses James Woodrow. He came from big money. Apparently his family has always been one of the richest in your country, yet no one ever seems to have heard about ‘im. It’s kind of like he and his family made sure to be kept off the radar, kind of like they had a reason to fear being known.”

  “So is that it? He was just the last one in his family to die?”

  “Aye, I believe so, but Edan told me that he met a Woodrow while he was being forced to work on the toxins. He said that the fella was rather arrogant and was spoutin’ off at some of the workers, tellin’ ‘em about all his money and how he could buy ‘em, or something along the lines of that.”

  “Buy them?”

  “Aye. Said that he would buy ‘em and kill ‘em himself. Said that they weren’t worth a penny, but he said he’d do it just to show ‘em how little their worth was. A rotten lad, that guy.”

  “So does Edan have any idea whether this man was related to the Woodrow who owned this house?”

  “He said he overheard him rantin’ bout his cousins later, mentioning Ulysses by name. He said that he and Ulysses used to go out west to Las Vegas every summer and buy up a casino. Sometimes even two. Personally, that sounds like a load o’ bollocks to me. One thing you Americans take pride in is Vegas, and buying a new casino every summer seems a bit excessive.”

  “So it’s probably a lie.”

  “I’d think so, but honestly, love, I can’t say I really know. I haven’t been in the U.S. long enough to really know about how ye Americans spend your money. But really, if a single fellow came from a house like this, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could go on spending tangents as often as he pleased.”

  “So do we have any idea what Ulysses was like?”

  “Well, we know one thing for sure, and that’s that he didn’t like sunlight and he liked his privacy. Every single room in that great house has blackout curtains and there are so many hidden rooms that I’ve lost count. We keep stumbling upon new ones every month; it’s kind of become a reoccurring joke among us.”

  The van finally makes its way out from the crevice between the hedges and a six-car garage is revealed. Kael pushes a green button on a black plastic box, and the garage door begins its slow ascent upwards.

  Half-frozen dew has collected on the dark green bricks that cover the great house, giving the house a glossy tint and reflecting the green of the immense hedges, which in turn somehow makes everything look greener than it already is. I count not one or two, but eight enormous arched windows, whose delicate spider web-like trim looks like something right out of a horror film.

  As we sit there, still waiting for the ancient garage door to open, Kael speaks my mind. “The house is an old Victorian. Apparently it’s one of the oldest houses in the state. Seems strange to me, considering it’s also the biggest, but I’d go out on a limb and say that it’s been given a couple of additions.”

  “Who woulda thought?”

  “I’ll ignore that last question.”

  The space between the ground and the garage door is finally big enough for Kael to squeeze the van through and as he brings the van to a halt, he looks at me.

  “So, have you had enough time to think about where you’re gonna go?” Kael asks as he puts the van in park.

  “I don’t know,” I say with a half-smile and a chuckle under my breath. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really thinking about that on the way here.”

  “What were ye thinking about then, love?”

  “I don’t know, things that have happened to me.”

  “Well, we won’t kick ye out right away I guess. Just think about it and let me know, alright?”

  “Okay,” I say, but not before Kael slides out of the van and begins the long process of getting everyone inside and settled down. My legs seem to stick to the leather seat, prolonging my stay in the van. If someone were waiting for me, they’d think there was something wrong.

  My fingers trace the edge of the door, searching for the door handle. But before I can open the door, Edan yanks it open.

  “What’s taking you so long?” He asks as he eyes me curiously.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

  “Well come on, we’ve got breakfast to eat.”