And then there was Melissa.
For two girls who had been classmates not so long ago, connected by a mutual friend, our lives had appeared to take strikingly different paths. She was anonymous, untraceable, disclaiming her part in the war. I was a public hero, accessible to a pair of kids too naïve to know what they couldn't do. If it hadn't been for Ronnie, they would have been able to talk to me even more quickly.
And yet, we were similar by virtue of being alone. Her closest companion, I worried, was an animal. All right, so my situation wasn't that dire. For all his faults, I still considered Ronnie a fundamentally good man.
But that evidently wasn't enough. There were billions of good people, I believed: human, Andalite, and Yeerk. I had fought for their survival, but they couldn't repay me through empathy.
Perhaps I wasn't "good". I'd seen despicable acts, and committed many more. I remained objectively aware of the atrocities: if I truly was to defeat the Yeerks without becoming them, I had to be accountable. If Melissa could retreat to save her virtue, like Guinevere into a nunnery, all the better for her.
That was the other danger of helping the twins. Not only were they putting their lives in danger, but also their hearts. Darwin should have been aware of that, though I doubted he believed he had anything left to lose.
Could I let Madra know that? It felt as if telling her how deeply I had been hurt would only expose her more to harsh reality. The alternative was to leave her alone for her own good, strangling her within her chrysalis. Exactly what Jake had done to me.
In order to talk to her without going back over to their house, however, they had to initiate contact. It took several days before Darwin did, calling me in the late evening. "Hi?"
"Hi-Darwin?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks for calling, I was hoping I'd get a chance to chat with you."
"You're welcome."
"So."
"So what?" I heard my voice and inwardly laughed. "Um, not like the phrase."
"Madra doesn't…get it."
"Yeah," I agreed, almost apologetically. "I noticed." When he didn't answer, I inferred I was supposed to go on, so I asked, "What do you want?"
"What do I want? I want to live a normal life and not have to think about Yeerks or missing heroes."
"I can't help you, then."
"Yeah, I know. So time to go to my second choice."
"What's that?"
"I don't know. Look, I'm just a kid. I know I don't belong out in space, I'd get killed."
"Why don't you tell Madra this?"
"She…I dunno. She wouldn't get it."
"I can tell you really care about her."
"Yeah…I guess," he muttered, uncomfortable.
"It's important to you to keep her safe?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not going to help you get a spaceship," I declared. "Is she just giving you a hard time?"
"Well, no, it's a big deal to her, and…" I waited, letting him figure out what he wanted to say. "I don't know. I mean, the more I thought about it, the more I figured we…Life's boring, y'know? I hated being a Controller. Hated it, it was so bad. But now I don't know what else I have to do."
"How old are you, Darwin?"
"Thirteen. You already asked me."
"Right. You have a big life ahead of you. I know you can do things we've never dreamed of, yet."
"So do you."
"Excuse me?"
"You're not that much older than me. Are you still so bored with life that you can go driving off to nowhere just 'cuz some random kids call you up?"
My mind seemed to switch off.
"Yeah. So, don't tell me what to do."
"I'm confused," I admitted. "I want to help you, but I don't know what you want."
"Neither do I. But honestly, can half the Animorphs disappear and nobody cares? I mean, you guys kinda saved the world."
"That's one way to put it."
"What's such a big deal that not even the military does something? Andalites and humans make a pretty good team-if there's something out there they don't want us to know about, it's gotta be something big."
"I'm not too sure what "it" is."
"Too sure? Do you have a guess?"
"Only that Jake didn't want me to have to face it."
"That doesn't help us any."
"What do you mean by "us"?"
"I mean…I don't know what I mean."
"Then why don't you wait to find out? You have plenty of time."
"I'll wait. And then I still won't know. And I'll keep waiting. And less and less people will know what I went through, and I won't know then either."
"You could teach them."
"Teach them? I don't want anybody to have to go through that."
I knew that by goading him I was risking a lot, but I felt it was worth it. "What about the Yeerk that infested you?" I challenged. "Would you want to get revenge on him? Or her? Do they deserve that?"
"Why are you asking me?" he replied shrewdly.
"I just want to figure out more about who you are."
"Well, when you do, could you let me know?"
"Of course," I replied without thinking, then realized he must have expected a sarcastic retort. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I've just got too much on my mind."
"Oh? Like what?"
"Well," I replied cagily, trying to give him some of the truth he deserved while avoiding getting into topics I barely understood myself, "I'm trying to design-er, work with a team that's designing-a memorial for the war."
"Cool," he replied, sounding genuinely interested. "Is it gonna be in Washington?"
"I don't think so…To be honest, I guess I don't have a clue. I always assumed it would be here."
"Hmm. Better figure that out, huh?" He laughed, but it wasn't mocking: more of a friendly tease.
"Yeah, I guess. Good idea."
"Thanks," he said, and I could hear the tinges of pride over the phone. Perhaps some of the first: infestation aside, he'd bounced between foster homes aimlessly, it seemed. Sometimes shocking an "adult" into reality was an achievement, maybe a great one. It didn't matter, as long as he could have dreams that kept him and Madra on the ground.