My Summer Part 3
Summary: Our favourite six Roswellians somehow avoid all the crossed wires I've set out for them.
Disclaimer: I have no idea really, but how about a G.
Thank you's: To Alex, thank you for keeping me sane!
"So what does it do again?" Alex asked. He had met the two girls in the Crashdown Cafe which Liz's father owned, ten minutes ago, and was still confused about the whole concept of the Truth Teller. Which was fair enough, because it seemed as though the whole truth telling thing had never been proven.
Liz opened her mouth to answer his question, but was cut off by one of Liz and Maria's fellow waitresses, Betsy.
"These letters were dropped off for the three of you this morning," she drawled, dropping them on the Formica table and cracking her gum.
"Thanks, Betsy," Maria said, picking up the white envelope that bore her name, and looking at it closely. "This is Michael's handwriting. I'd recognise it anywhere."
"And this is Isobel's," Alex mused, looking at his also. "So's your's Liz," he said, craning his neck to look at her envelope.
Liz ripped hers open, and read aloud the writing inside.
"Dear Liz.
My brother won't remember to let you know that we've gone, he's been self-dependant for so long. I had another dream last night. I saw something that could tell us about where we come from, it was somewhere in the desert. So that's where we've gone. We'll be there for about a week, camping in the cave we took you to that time. But don't try and find us.
As much as we have grown to love you all, this is something that we have to do ourselves. Just like you will all be at the Crashdown right now, doing your bonding. This is our bonding.
We've told Mom and Dad that we're on a Science trip, and will be gone for a week. Please back us up if you see them.
Your friend, Isobel.
PS I'll take care of Max for you."
Liz put down the letter, not sure whether to be relieved that Max was not avoiding her, or anger that he hadn't written the comforting words that she needed to be reassured with. Before she could say anything, Alex tore his envelope open, and followed Liz's example of reading it aloud.
"Dear Alex,
I haven't got much time, having spent a long time trying to persuade Liz that we will be alright. We will be fine, Alex. This is something that we have to do.
If Sheriff Valenti asks where we are, just go with the Science story. Or think on your feet, you're good at that (among other things of course!).
Wait for me, I won't be long,
All my love, Isabel"
"Well, I can tell you what mine says without having to go through the formality of actually reading it. 'To Maria. I may be some time. I don't want you to wait for me. Michael'. Detachment at its finest."
"Read it, Maria. It's unlikely, but it might tell us some more." Liz urged. Maria rolled her eyes, but obediently opened the envelope. Anything to please her best friend...
"Dear Maria,
Well I'm not quite sure what to say. Isabel has a dream, we go traipsing around the desert trying to find some weird thing, I come back to find that you're mad at me for running off.
Don't be. I'll be back as soon as you know it.
Michael"
"God, he must be in love. That's the only time I've heard him write something that actually made sense," Alex quipped nervously.
"Oh my god..." Maria said. "This means he cares for me, doesn't it? He must do." She put the letter down on the table, still staring at it as though she expected it to spontaneously combust.
"Yeah, I think all three of us are loved at this moment in time" Alex said.
"A whole week?" Liz asked quietly. "It must be something really important, but they never said what it was."
Although they were loved, it still seemed as though some secrets could not be shared with them.
"I guess that's what happens when you're Czechoslovakian," Maria said sadly. "They're still trying to break down the language barrier."
"I guess we'll just have to wait..."
"Is this a different way home?" Isobel asked drowsily as the three 'Czechoslovakians' drove through the dry and dusty desert. "I don't think we came through this town eariler."
"I think you'll find that this town has houses with chimney's at the top of their roofs, Izzy," Michael said sardonically. "I knew you wouldn't give up so easily, Maxwell. What do you think, it's going to be perched on a roof like one of those weird chickens that tells the wind direction? 'Aliens, home is this way'?"
"I've had another idea, and I think it might work," Max said defensively, as he drove into a tiny car park and killed the Jeep's engine. "I think there's a good chance that the Truth Teller would have been moved if it's as close to civilization as you said, Iz. Some tourist wanting to make a cheap buck, or something. This is Sand Wood, population 355. If something like the Truth Teller's been paraded around here, most likely in the antique shop that none of you paid any attention to, then we've got an excellent chance of someone remembering."
"And if no-one remembers it? Do we go back to searching, or check the track records of every single housewife in Ohio, or wherever it was you said?" Isobel said. "It's a slim chance Max, and to be honest...what are the chances of this being the town? I don't recognize anywhere around here at all."
"It's worth a try," Max said stubbornly, and climbing out of the car. "Even if we don't find it, I can't go to sleep tonight thinking that all we did today was search the desert half heartedly for three hours, and then go home. You can stay in the car, or come with me. It's your decision, but I can't just sit here."
Although reluctantly, Isobel and Michael followed Max out of the car, out of the parking lot, and through the dusty streets of Sand Wood to a shop called 'Memories of Yesteryear'.
Once inside, Max made a beeline for the owner, who seemed to be as old as time. His shining eyes betrayed that his mind was sharper than his declining body, and he watched the approach of the teenager with interest.
"What can I help you with, son?" Angus Kirkland asked Max. "The name's Angus Kirkland, I'm the owner of this establishment."
Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and said uncomfortably, "I'm looking for something specific, and I wondered if you would ever have sold anything like it. It's a small sphere, with shimmering colours, old fables believe it to have some sort of prophecying talents."
Angus looked at the teenager, and the two behind him, who were obviously listening in. He beckoned them closer, and Michael and Isobel came to stand closer.
"What you're describing to me sounds very much like a Truth Teller. It's been talked about for so long even I don't remember when it started. I can't help you with it's whereabouts now, but I do know that I stocked the only one I've ever heard of about thirty years ago."
Even sceptical Michael and Isobel paid attention to Angus's next words, and couldn't believe their luck. Somehow Max's hunch had been correct, even though the Truth Teller wasn't here now, it had been.
"It was brought to me by someone who I never saw again, he left town the following day. He ran a little hardware shop, and was selling up all his possessions, moving to somewhere on the East Coast. Anyway, I was intriuged by it, as anyone would be. The surface of it...reminds me of one of those fancy silk scarves girls like you wear," he glanced at Isobel. "Where they catch the light and the colours change, but this was so much more pronounced, from blue, to purple, to pink, and so it went on. I really didn't want to let it go."
"What made you sell it then?" Michael asked. Angus glanced at him and said, "So impatient! It is lucky that I was just going to tell you before my interruption." Michael looked suitably chastened, and Angus continued with the three aliens once again paying close attention. "The business was going so badly, that I was selling everything I could get my hands on. So, even though I loved it dearly, it was time to set the Truth Teller free. I sold it to a little lady here with her husband, she'd be about seventy now I guess, if she's alive. They'd been hiking in the desert, and she fell in love with it. Paid enough to keep me in business for the remainder of the year, anyways." Mr Kirkland sighed, reflecting on his memories.
"Mr Kirkland, this may be a long shot, but do you know of the Truth teller ever working for anyone?" Max asked earnestly. "Of anyone actually seeing things they wished to know that had gone before?"
Angus sighed once more, and rested his chin on a long, tapered hand. "Once, I believed that I saw my mother. She resembled a candle flame, suddenly blown out in her prime, when she was at her brightest. But then I turned around, and saw a smoking candle which had not been there before. I don't know what happened, but that also triggered my decision to sell it. I would love to know whether the lady who I sold it to had any luck with her visions. The Teller only works for those gifted enough to place their faith in the past. Those who have problems letting go, if you will. One of my scarce reasons for believing in my vision, as my mother's suicide never seemed as though it was the truth..."
Max, Michael and Isobel stood silently, until Isobel walked over to shake Angus's hand.
"Thank you very much for telling us about the Truth Teller, Mr Kirkland. You've helped us a lot."
"It was my pleasure. There is never any fresh blood in Sand Wood any more, just the same people living the same lives. I thank you for bringing sunshine into my day."
Max and Michael mumbled their thanks, and they all walked out of the shop, blinking at the sudden, strong, sunlight.
"If it was here, then where is it now?"
To be continued...
Summary: Our favourite six Roswellians somehow avoid all the crossed wires I've set out for them.
Disclaimer: I have no idea really, but how about a G.
Thank you's: To Alex, thank you for keeping me sane!
"So what does it do again?" Alex asked. He had met the two girls in the Crashdown Cafe which Liz's father owned, ten minutes ago, and was still confused about the whole concept of the Truth Teller. Which was fair enough, because it seemed as though the whole truth telling thing had never been proven.
Liz opened her mouth to answer his question, but was cut off by one of Liz and Maria's fellow waitresses, Betsy.
"These letters were dropped off for the three of you this morning," she drawled, dropping them on the Formica table and cracking her gum.
"Thanks, Betsy," Maria said, picking up the white envelope that bore her name, and looking at it closely. "This is Michael's handwriting. I'd recognise it anywhere."
"And this is Isobel's," Alex mused, looking at his also. "So's your's Liz," he said, craning his neck to look at her envelope.
Liz ripped hers open, and read aloud the writing inside.
"Dear Liz.
My brother won't remember to let you know that we've gone, he's been self-dependant for so long. I had another dream last night. I saw something that could tell us about where we come from, it was somewhere in the desert. So that's where we've gone. We'll be there for about a week, camping in the cave we took you to that time. But don't try and find us.
As much as we have grown to love you all, this is something that we have to do ourselves. Just like you will all be at the Crashdown right now, doing your bonding. This is our bonding.
We've told Mom and Dad that we're on a Science trip, and will be gone for a week. Please back us up if you see them.
Your friend, Isobel.
PS I'll take care of Max for you."
Liz put down the letter, not sure whether to be relieved that Max was not avoiding her, or anger that he hadn't written the comforting words that she needed to be reassured with. Before she could say anything, Alex tore his envelope open, and followed Liz's example of reading it aloud.
"Dear Alex,
I haven't got much time, having spent a long time trying to persuade Liz that we will be alright. We will be fine, Alex. This is something that we have to do.
If Sheriff Valenti asks where we are, just go with the Science story. Or think on your feet, you're good at that (among other things of course!).
Wait for me, I won't be long,
All my love, Isabel"
"Well, I can tell you what mine says without having to go through the formality of actually reading it. 'To Maria. I may be some time. I don't want you to wait for me. Michael'. Detachment at its finest."
"Read it, Maria. It's unlikely, but it might tell us some more." Liz urged. Maria rolled her eyes, but obediently opened the envelope. Anything to please her best friend...
"Dear Maria,
Well I'm not quite sure what to say. Isabel has a dream, we go traipsing around the desert trying to find some weird thing, I come back to find that you're mad at me for running off.
Don't be. I'll be back as soon as you know it.
Michael"
"God, he must be in love. That's the only time I've heard him write something that actually made sense," Alex quipped nervously.
"Oh my god..." Maria said. "This means he cares for me, doesn't it? He must do." She put the letter down on the table, still staring at it as though she expected it to spontaneously combust.
"Yeah, I think all three of us are loved at this moment in time" Alex said.
"A whole week?" Liz asked quietly. "It must be something really important, but they never said what it was."
Although they were loved, it still seemed as though some secrets could not be shared with them.
"I guess that's what happens when you're Czechoslovakian," Maria said sadly. "They're still trying to break down the language barrier."
"I guess we'll just have to wait..."
"Is this a different way home?" Isobel asked drowsily as the three 'Czechoslovakians' drove through the dry and dusty desert. "I don't think we came through this town eariler."
"I think you'll find that this town has houses with chimney's at the top of their roofs, Izzy," Michael said sardonically. "I knew you wouldn't give up so easily, Maxwell. What do you think, it's going to be perched on a roof like one of those weird chickens that tells the wind direction? 'Aliens, home is this way'?"
"I've had another idea, and I think it might work," Max said defensively, as he drove into a tiny car park and killed the Jeep's engine. "I think there's a good chance that the Truth Teller would have been moved if it's as close to civilization as you said, Iz. Some tourist wanting to make a cheap buck, or something. This is Sand Wood, population 355. If something like the Truth Teller's been paraded around here, most likely in the antique shop that none of you paid any attention to, then we've got an excellent chance of someone remembering."
"And if no-one remembers it? Do we go back to searching, or check the track records of every single housewife in Ohio, or wherever it was you said?" Isobel said. "It's a slim chance Max, and to be honest...what are the chances of this being the town? I don't recognize anywhere around here at all."
"It's worth a try," Max said stubbornly, and climbing out of the car. "Even if we don't find it, I can't go to sleep tonight thinking that all we did today was search the desert half heartedly for three hours, and then go home. You can stay in the car, or come with me. It's your decision, but I can't just sit here."
Although reluctantly, Isobel and Michael followed Max out of the car, out of the parking lot, and through the dusty streets of Sand Wood to a shop called 'Memories of Yesteryear'.
Once inside, Max made a beeline for the owner, who seemed to be as old as time. His shining eyes betrayed that his mind was sharper than his declining body, and he watched the approach of the teenager with interest.
"What can I help you with, son?" Angus Kirkland asked Max. "The name's Angus Kirkland, I'm the owner of this establishment."
Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and said uncomfortably, "I'm looking for something specific, and I wondered if you would ever have sold anything like it. It's a small sphere, with shimmering colours, old fables believe it to have some sort of prophecying talents."
Angus looked at the teenager, and the two behind him, who were obviously listening in. He beckoned them closer, and Michael and Isobel came to stand closer.
"What you're describing to me sounds very much like a Truth Teller. It's been talked about for so long even I don't remember when it started. I can't help you with it's whereabouts now, but I do know that I stocked the only one I've ever heard of about thirty years ago."
Even sceptical Michael and Isobel paid attention to Angus's next words, and couldn't believe their luck. Somehow Max's hunch had been correct, even though the Truth Teller wasn't here now, it had been.
"It was brought to me by someone who I never saw again, he left town the following day. He ran a little hardware shop, and was selling up all his possessions, moving to somewhere on the East Coast. Anyway, I was intriuged by it, as anyone would be. The surface of it...reminds me of one of those fancy silk scarves girls like you wear," he glanced at Isobel. "Where they catch the light and the colours change, but this was so much more pronounced, from blue, to purple, to pink, and so it went on. I really didn't want to let it go."
"What made you sell it then?" Michael asked. Angus glanced at him and said, "So impatient! It is lucky that I was just going to tell you before my interruption." Michael looked suitably chastened, and Angus continued with the three aliens once again paying close attention. "The business was going so badly, that I was selling everything I could get my hands on. So, even though I loved it dearly, it was time to set the Truth Teller free. I sold it to a little lady here with her husband, she'd be about seventy now I guess, if she's alive. They'd been hiking in the desert, and she fell in love with it. Paid enough to keep me in business for the remainder of the year, anyways." Mr Kirkland sighed, reflecting on his memories.
"Mr Kirkland, this may be a long shot, but do you know of the Truth teller ever working for anyone?" Max asked earnestly. "Of anyone actually seeing things they wished to know that had gone before?"
Angus sighed once more, and rested his chin on a long, tapered hand. "Once, I believed that I saw my mother. She resembled a candle flame, suddenly blown out in her prime, when she was at her brightest. But then I turned around, and saw a smoking candle which had not been there before. I don't know what happened, but that also triggered my decision to sell it. I would love to know whether the lady who I sold it to had any luck with her visions. The Teller only works for those gifted enough to place their faith in the past. Those who have problems letting go, if you will. One of my scarce reasons for believing in my vision, as my mother's suicide never seemed as though it was the truth..."
Max, Michael and Isobel stood silently, until Isobel walked over to shake Angus's hand.
"Thank you very much for telling us about the Truth Teller, Mr Kirkland. You've helped us a lot."
"It was my pleasure. There is never any fresh blood in Sand Wood any more, just the same people living the same lives. I thank you for bringing sunshine into my day."
Max and Michael mumbled their thanks, and they all walked out of the shop, blinking at the sudden, strong, sunlight.
"If it was here, then where is it now?"
To be continued...