Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
29 THE EDWARD PROBLEM
The voices faded as he brought the car to another stop. I sighed with relief but released none of my precious air.
"Edward, what is happening?" he said alarmed. Being the doctor that he was his first impulse was to check for signs of distress. He reached for me and put his hand on my head as if to check for a fever. He breathed in the air around me, but it didn't work on me. He was frustrated when he realized that he couldn't really help me and I hadn't answered him.
"Too many Edwards in that neighborhood," I squeezed out the words trying my best not to use up all my air. I twitched to a single call of "Edward" nearby, trying to figure a way to cope with my uncontrollable reaction to my name.
"We need to talk, so you need to breathe," Carlisle said seriously and drove the car back into the countryside. He stopped the car where he detected little human scent. I took a normal breath.
"What is going on?" Carlisle asked as he turned to face me.
"The name thing," I sighed frustrated. "I can't control my reaction to my name when I hear it. There was a huge crowd and someone introduced Edward, hundreds of them said or thought his name. It was just too much," I growled out the words.
Carlisle sat thinking for a while, and came up with an interesting idea. "It's a survival instinct, Edward. If someone is calling your name you needed to know it."
I started thinking of it differently; those other Edwards weren't out to torture me. My brain was just trying to protect me. My brain was incredibly fast, so I could flit though the thoughts very quickly and dismiss them as important, unimportant or non-threatening, before they built up and overwhelmed me.
Now that I had a strategy, I asked Carlisle to slowly drive back toward the city. Each time I heard my name my head did start to move toward the speaker but by that time I had already dismissed it as unimportant and my head stopped moving. When we reached the area where I had heard so many calling out my name, the party had settled down and the frequency was within my tolerance level.
We continued our drive into the city, I began to notice that my range for these 'voices' was less than a mile. As we entered the inner city the beast growled and quivered in frustration, the nearness of so many warm bodies was working on my resolve. I kept my eyes averted from the few people on the street. I was watching the movement of the faint shadow of Carlisle's arm as he steered the car, and stared at a slow moving ant crossing the floorboard giving my eyes distractions where I needed distractions.
We ran into another smaller party with a couple of Edwards attending. My increased head twitches warned Carlisle and he sped up leaving the area.
Meanwhile, Carlisle was great with mental encouragement. He kept me focused where I needed to focus and I kept the beast caged. The hardest part was hearing the bustle of the city, the actual voices then not looking at it through Carlisle's eyes. I hummed or sang low in an attempt to mask the sounds from my ears.
Suddenly I realized that it was Christmas time. The voices I was attempting to block were calling Christmas greetings. I groaned as I knew even more people were out and about. The snow that would usually keep people inside now made them feel cheery and social, especially since the war had ended and men were returning home from Europe. The radio and newspapers had also recently announced that influenza cases had decreased significantly, the pandemic was over.
The two events that changed everything in my life were now things of the past.
I stared down at my gloved hands avoiding the sight of people crowding the city streets and thought of my aspiration of going to war. Had I really expected to come home a hero or had I been willing to give up my life to rescue others? I was unsure of my former expectations. Had I only thought of the glory and not the possibility of death? I don't think I even considered the potential of dying on the battlefield, I had been that naive.
I vaguely remembered my vivid dreams of being the soldier hero and saving the innocent. Most of the dreams I remembered had ended, if not strangely, at least well. I realized glumly that I missed dreaming, something I could no longer do.
My mood darkened as I half listened to Carlisle reassuring me I was stronger than I thought. Edward, Edward, someone called and I twitched.
The war was over, Mother would have been happy, and my eighteenth birthday was still six months away. I could celebrate the anniversary of my birth but I would never reach my eighteenth year because of the influenza. Another thing I hadn't considered was the potential of dying from the influenza.
I noticed that I was getting disturbingly moodier the closer we got to my previous home and the 'Edward' twitches were not helping.
"We're here," Carlisle said. He stopped the car and pulled on the parking brake.
I finally looked up. He parked on the street where I had parked my father's car, ages ago it seemed. Seeing the house for the first time in over three months, knowing that there was no one there waiting for me was distressing.
Anyone watching would think that there was definitely something wrong with me, but the movement was much less than an hour ago. My head moved in the direction of Edward who was having a birthday party and Edward who was playing with three friends and a few other Edwards nearby.
I focused on the front door as we walked up the steps and I pulled the key from my pocket. Opening the door, not knowing what to expect, was nerve racking.
The door opened smoothly, the entry area was as I remembered it. Someone, probably the caretaker, had cleaned the floors. No trace remained of my blood streaked crawl to the front door.
Carlisle watched me as I took two steps into the entry hall and stood surveying the area. He closed the door.
"Is this tolerable?" he asked concerned by my lack of movement. Remember do not breathe.
I nodded imperceptibly, distracted by so many memories. I was seeing the place in a whole different way with my enhanced eyes, remembering the reason for this nick in the wood or that crack in the plaster. Fuzzy human memories attached to vivid visual cues. The world outside faded away, except for an occasional Edward twitch.
He lifted the hat off my head and hung it on an empty coat hook. I absently pulled off the gloves and scarf and sat them on the entry table and shrugged out of my overcoat placing it on a hook.
"Go upstairs. I'll get the caretaker to help me get the crates into the house, and then I'll have him leave while we are here," Carlisle told me interrupting my nostalgic musings. Although I don't really need him, I can't use my strength that obviously so I'll ask for help. It is the human thing to do.
I nodded again, he was always teaching. I walked slowly up the staircase, my eyes darting to every little nick on the railing, scratch on the wall, and stain on the carpet. The house echoed even though it wasn't empty. Then I heard the excited thoughts and heartbeat of the caretaker coming from the back of the house. He was aware of our entrance and was anxious. I ran up the stairs, still refusing to breathe, and the beast growled in irritation.
