GODS AND MONSTERS
By Allegra
(See Part One for disclaimers etc.) Please nourish the feedback monster.
CHAPTER TWO : CRUELTY HAS A HUMAN FACE
Maria was waving a piece of paper which she brought over to the rest of the group. Michael snatched it from her hand, perusing the page impatiently.
Liz's eyes met with Max's momentarily before quickly adopting a business-like tone. "I swept all the local internet sites. They didn't say for certain that the cult had set up there, but the police arrested some members outside Roswell a few months ago. Apparently, they assaulted some hitch hiker, believing him to be an alien returning to find his spaceship. Anyway, when the group were released, they declared that they knew the aliens are among us and that they'd track them down."
Maria grabbed the paper back from Michael, reading, "And get this. They raised over five million dollars from their members and other believers which they intend to use on state of the art facilities in New Mexico."
Max could barely believe what he was hearing. It couldn't be true. All those alien conspiracies had died away to a few haphazard tourists and the occasional joke. Surely nobody would take alien hunting that seriously anymore.
Isabel shivered slightly. "We've got to get out of here."
Michael stood up quickly. "No! I say we stick to our guns. I mean, it's not like they're going to get anything on us. Come on, they're loony tunes."
Max whispered, "We don't know that, Michael. I mean, we're here, aren't we?"
Liz could feel the tension rising tangibly around the group. None of them were going to admit it, but the idea of some cult running around trying to hunt them down was a more terrible prospect than any government branch snooping around. "Listen, guys, whoever these people are, we have to keep it in perspective. We have to find out as much as possible about them, their philosophies, motives, equipment, funds, the lot."
Max nodded. "Liz is right. We mustn't panic."
Michael snapped, "Hey, I'm not panicking, Maxwell."
Liz looked over at Isabel and it became clear who was really at the heart of Max's comment. The blonde's face was ashen, her eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights. She was wringing her hands, her face distant as if she were consumed by a tide of overwhelming emotions.
Liz motioned to Max, who knelt in front of his sister, putting a placating hand on her shoulder. "Is, look at me." Her gaze faltered fleetingly before locking onto his reassuring face. "We'll figure this out. Everything's going to be okay."
Isabel pursed her lips, her brow creasing into a concerned frown. She nodded emphatically but Max knew better than to take that as proof of her feelings. Still, there was little he could do about it right now. He couldn't make these empty promises any more. He needed to make her believe him.
Standing up, he turned to Liz. "Liz, did you find anything else? Anything at all?"
Liz glanced over at Maria. "Um, we found a few other links but nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, we could check those other sources if you want."
Maria flicked one hand nonchalantly in the air. "Yeah, there was something about a local meeting, some kind of speech at the town hall."
Michael bristled with energy. "When?"
Maria shrugged. "I can't remember. Liz and I can check it this evening."
"Yeah, great. Do it now."
Maria rolled her eyes in disgust. "Yes, sir!"
Michael refused to rise to the bait. This was exactly what happened every time there was a crisis. He would be trying to deal with the situation while Maria went completely off her head about their relationship, what a negligent boyfriend he was, how cold he was, blah, blah, blah. Sometimes, he could happily wring her neck for the trouble she caused.
Liz caught his weary expression and with her customary tact, glossed over the situation. "We don't have to be at the Crashdown until six. Maria and I will do it on the way home."
Max nodded, "Thanks, Liz." She smiled curtly. The look in his eyes was so intense like he was desperately trying to communicate something to her, but Liz wasn't ready to get into another discussion just yet. Besides, it was more important that they deal with the bigger picture and not get waylaid with their relationship. That was a whole different ball game, after all.
"Isabel!" Alex caught up with his girlfriend as she strode purposefully down the main street. She didn't stop, as if she couldn't even hear him and it took him a few minutes of shouting before she turned her head.
Catching his breath, Alex asked, "Didn't you hear me? I was calling from down the street."
Isabel glanced down the road as if expecting him to still be there. "Uh, no. I was just thinking about other stuff."
"Well, I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to The Folk Implosion concert with me this Friday. They're in town and my friend said he could get me the tickets so..."
"I don't think so, Alex. Thanks anyway."
Alex tried to hide his disappointment. "Sure, that's fine. Maybe we can just go see a movie or something?"
Isabel couldn't even muster a half smile to appease him. "Maybe." She really wanted to be alone right now and Alex was probably the worst person to try and get rid of. He never took the hint unless it was blatantly dangled in front of his face.
"Isabel, is there something bothering you?"
"No, I'm fine. I've just got some things on my mind, that's all." She momentarily found the smile she had been looking for and prayed it did the trick. Alex might be her boyfriend but it was hardly like they had the same kind of bond as Liz and Max or Michael and Maria. Those couples were solid in a different way. If one half wasn't being totally honest, the entire foundations of their relationship began to crumble.
With Alex, it was different. There wasn't anything which really united them apart from the fact that he was in on the whole alien secret. Although, given Kyle's suspicions and Sheriff Valenti's snooping, not to mention Alex's public and regular faux pas, it wouldn't be long before the rest of Roswell knew their secret as well.
No, Alex Whitman was a nice guy and Isabel enjoyed knowing he'd always be at her beck and call, no matter how callous that sounded. He knew the score, didn't he? That girls like Isabel didn't just hook up with the geeks. They could be friends, more for a little while, but her 'breeding' would always set her apart from the rest of the world. No relationship would be easy and despite Max and Michael's repeated lectures on not getting involved, so far Isabel was the only one who had managed to attain some level of distance from humans.
She turned on her heel. Now was not the time to be thinking about Alex. How did he manage to distract her from something way more important than stupid crushes.
Suddenly, she felt growing bitterness towards him for being so annoying and emotionally dependant. He followed her round school like lovesick puppy and had a constant stream of stupid ideas for dates, thus ensuring he rounded her up at least once a week. It was really starting to get to her.
True to form, she felt his arm on hers, stopping her again. "Isabel, what's going on?"
Tugging herself away from him, Isabel stiffened. "There's nothing going on, Alex. I just don't want to see you today, all right? I just want to be alone for a while."
Alex's face contorted into severe lines and he lowered his voice. "Is this something, you know, A-L-I-E-N? Because you know you can talk to me about anything."
Isabel gazed steadily at him for a moment. There was a cruel way or a kind way of letting him down, but which one should she go for? It would be fairer to tell him he was right, that it was an alien thing and she needed to be alone for a while to sort herself out, or...
"No, Alex. It's not an alien thing, it's a 'you' thing. God, every step I take it's like you're right behind me! You want to spend every waking minute with me and..."
Alex lifted his hands in faint protest. "I'm you boyfriend, Isabel! That's what boyfriends do. We're supposed to be a couple!"
"That's just it! That's exactly the problem here. You and I are on completely different wavelengths. You think of me as your full blown girlfriend, but you know what?" She moved closer to him for a moment, wickedly savouring the discomfort Alex must feel. "I don't feel anything for you. This has always been a one-sided infatuation, Alex."
Licking his lips, Alex floundered for the words to respond. "So why did you stay with me?"
Isabel went in for the kill, plastering a smile across her face. "Because I pitied you." Seeing that her work was done, she walked briskly off in the opposite direction.
Alex remained frozen like a statue, watching Isabel depart. He was stunned. Why was she doing this? Surely she couldn't really feel that way. He knew their relationship was hardly unrequited passion or blissful love but it WAS something. She couldn't deny that. Okay, he would accept her breaking up with him but to say that she never cared was a lie, even Alex could tell that. No, this outburst definitely stemmed from something else.
He raced after her once more, dragging Isabel into a sidewalk. "I don't believe that, Isabel. You've got to give me a better reason than that. It's okay if you don't want to tell me the truth about whatever's bothering you, but don't give me this bull."
Isabel sighed as if it were the most tiresome job in the world to explain herself to such small people. "Alex, for God's sake, take it like a man. I don't want to see you anymore, just let it go. I mean, haven't you ever looked at Liz and Maria and wondered why they're always on the inside of whatever's going on? Whenever there's trouble, they always know about it...because Michael or Max tell them. Why? Because they trust them and care about them. Go figure, Alex." She turned to go before suddenly shooting him a venomous glare. "And if you lay a hand on me again, I'll zap you to kingdom come."
With that, she stalked off, leaving a deflated Alex leaning against the wall in disbelief.
Max sharpened his pencil for the tenth time in as many minutes. He was barely aware of the repetitious movements as his mind rested again on the potential dangers which lay ahead. It shrank homework into a tiny ball of insignificance which even the studious Max Evans could not unravel. Under ordinary circumstances, he would be treating the arrival of this cult with a healthy dose of scepticism and a sense of irony. Yet, Michael's habitual need to scare-monger was having the desired effect and Max was feeling uneasy. Once again, where everyone else had taken a small, curious step, Michael Guerin had leapt to the most hardcore conclusion.
Yes, they were different. They were from outer space, regions beyond human comprehension. Fear of the unknown was what made human beings cruel and dangerous. Their desperate terror of some hideous end which they might experience at the hands of extra-terrestrial beings overrode any rational information they might glean from such a situation.
It was strange, then, that such fear should be exactly what drove the three aliens forward. Just like humans, Max was afraid of the unknown, of taking a step forward only to find a pit of gloom from which he could not recoil. But if he didn't take that step, how could he ever grow? How could he, Isabel and Michael ever find their home? It was the only way forward. Then again, they had one vital force on their side. They were searching for home...humans were protecting it. The human race was safeguarding this planet from certain death if it were overrun.
Max sat back in his chair, resigned. No, Michael wasn't to blame for this. Max had just reasoned it out all on his own. He could never understand what it must be like to be a normal person on Earth. Even if evil aliens landed tomorrow in a freak invasion, Max might die along with everyone else, but he would be exempt from the argument. It wasn't about his kind. Even if it were, he had powers of his own to defend himself with.
This cult wasn't crazy, either. Max had just let himself get caught up in the disparaging remarks of people who belonged here. On the contrary, they were the only ones with the inside scoop, with their ear to the cosmic ground. And that's what made them dangerous.
Scooping his books back into his bag, Max left the library and headed towards the Crashdown. Maria and Liz would have had plenty of time to investigate the other sources they had found.
"Liz, how can you say that?" Maria questioned, indignantly, her hands resting emphatically on her narrow hips.
Liz shrugged. "I just don't think she's that great a singer, okay? It's not that big a deal, Maria."
Maria's jaw dropped open. "Not that big a deal?! I can't believe we've been best friends all these years, shared our most intimate secrets and all this time you never liked Whitney!"
Liz rolled her eyes and delivered a bar customer his all-day breakfast. "She' just a singer!"
"That's just the tip of the iceberg, Liz. It means that you and I have been coming from completely different directions all this time! How can you possibly understand anything I talk about when you can't get inside my head?!"
Liz shook Maria lightly by the shoulders. "Maria, calm down. I didn't say I never liked Whitney, I just said she seems a bit, you know, drugged out these days. Yes, she has a good voice but even you've got to admit she's lost the plot now."
Maria quietened, her mouth finally closing with Liz's firm voice. "Well, I guess you've got a point there."
Liz busied herself with the coffee machine, grateful to be relieved of having to explain herself any more. She had to admit that the argument was kind of her own fault. Their hunt for more information on this new cult had dug up nothing. Every lead had turned into a useless mention in some random article on sighted UFOs or one of the annual, uninformed magazines which decided the question of alien existence needed a 'fresh' point of view. More than anything, Liz had wanted to turn up something useful for Max. She was concerned about him and she just wished there was more she could do to ease his mind. The best they could do was sit in on the meeting at the town hall tomorrow evening and pray these fanatics provided a little more insight than the local records had proven.
As if in tune with her train of thought, the bell tinkled and Liz looked up to see Max enter. He wasn't with Michael or Isabel, thank goodness. Liz just needed to speak to him alone for a while. They still hadn't patched things up since the other day in the music room and Liz wanted to clear the air. She had kept him at arm's length but now she found herself desperately wanting to be close to him again.
Maria swung past her with some dirty plates, murmuring, "Lover boy's here."
Liz nodded, distractedly, her gaze already locked with Max's. "I know."
He came up to the counter and sat as far away from the rest of the customers as possible. Liz could read the expression on his face as easily as ever. He hadn't got any work done and had spent the past couple of hours worrying about everything Michael had said. She planted a chocolate milkshake in front of him. "On the house. Calcium builds the bones, makes us stronger and I believe chocolate is an aphrodisiac so..." Liz blushed suddenly as Max looked up in surprise, and quickly finished, "...so it should make you feel a bit happier at least."
Max attempted a small smile but even he knew there was no point in trying to hide from Liz. "Thanks, Liz. Any luck with the research?"
Liz bit her lip. "No, not really. I think we should just go to the meeting tomorrow evening and see what happens. They're bound to tell us more there than any newspaper could."
Max nodded, dispassionately. "Liz?" His face suddenly took on a new dimension, eyes brimming with renewed hope. "Is there any chance I can talk to you alone later? When it's a bit quieter?"
Liz smiled. "Yeah. We're closing early this evening so I'll be off at nine."
"Okay."
Max watched Liz for the remainder of her shift, scrutinising her as she poured coffee and waited on the tables. He homed in on her smile, those wide brown eyes which changed from wide innocence to lazy seduction, animation to boredom. Her whole being was reflected in those eyes and Max had dipped into them countless times, losing himself in them like a drug. When he looked at Liz, it was like the whole world disappeared and he didn't have a care in the universe.
Liz felt Max's eyes boring into her, tracking her around the room, from the bar to the booths and back to the kitchen. Part of her felt a renewed sense of self-confidence while the rest of her felt like a pool of jelly. She was constantly on the verge of dropping plates and cups whenever she caught his eye.
Finally, she had bustled the last customer out of the door and Maria had taken the hint and headed home, leaving Max and Liz alone.
Liz poured herself a cherry coke and sat opposite Max in a secluded booth at the side of the diner. He smiled, "Alone at last."
"Do you want anything else? Coffee? Coke?"
Max shook his head, "No. I just want you to sit down."
Liz obliged, suddenly feeling a warm flush shoot through her body. She didn't feel prepared. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now; Max was here and so was she. They were going to have this conversation regardless of how Liz's nerves were holding up.
She fiddled absently with her straw, regretting having chosen a caffeinated drink. What she needed right now was something to calm her down, make her mellow and responsive, the way she really ought to be for a discussion like this.
"Liz, I've been thinking about us, about what you said the other day, and you're right."
Liz's heart lurched in her chest. "Max..." She didn't want him to end it because of what she'd said. She wished she could take it all back and go back to the way they were before.
As if reading her mind, Max placed a firm, warm hand over hers. "No, it's okay, Liz. I understand now. You were right about the pain, about being able to feel when something's wrong. I know how much it must have hurt you when Pierce took me but I can't help loving you. You are right that we can't keep doing this, that I can't keep asking you to be there for me when I'm going to put my life in danger...but I can't help that either."
Liz smiled sadly. She knew all this was true. They were inextricably entwined in a intricate web of horrors from which their every struggle only enmeshed them deeper. "I know, Max. I just wish it didn't have to be so complicated."
Max rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling the smooth skin beneath his own. "That's just it, Liz. It isn't complicated at all. You reminded me of how deep our emotions go, that we're stuck with them.
"Liz, you're my greatest strength and the only reason I've lived through all this. Sometimes that frightens me because there are days when I desperately want to forget about this search for 'home' and just be with you. I'm afraid of what will happen to me if I do that, what will happen to all of us. But the good outweighs the bad ten fold. I can't do any of this without you."
Max pulled back suddenly and sighed, searching for the right words. He hated sounding like some extra from the latest chick flick but the words of romance always seemed to say exactly what he wanted Liz to know. "What I'm trying to say is that it doesn't have to be complicated. We should just stop fighting and crying on each other's shoulder about the hand fate dealt us and start living. It's going to be tough but we're in it for the long haul."
Liz took an unwanted sip of her cherry coke and sat back against the wall of the booth. "You're right, Max. You're absolutely right...and I want to give it a go. But what you're asking of me, it just isn't possible. I'm only human, Max. I can't promise I'll always be a saint in this, but I'll try."
Max nodded and sat forward, tracing his hand down her cheek. Liz responded, moving closer to him, feeling his lips brush hers. Max tangled his fingers in her hair as he deepened the kiss. The whole discussion was lost in an instant. The passion was electric, darting through their bodies and uniting them. Who cared about the future when they had today.
The next evening bowled around quickly and Maria was having one mother of an argument with, well, her mother. They had been getting along famously until she had mentioned the meeting at the town hall.
"Mom, I won't be home late."
"That's NOT the point here, missy. That meeting is going to be full of whackos and complete freaks who'll probably drug you and bundle you into the back of their truck. God knows where you'll end up!"
Maria rolled her eyes. At least she knew where her dramatic tendencies came from. "Mom, I just told you I won't be home late. There'll be loads of people around and besides Michael is picking me up. He'll be with me the whole time."
Mrs. De Luca put her hands on her hips, defiantly. "Oh, now I feel a whole world better. Michael Guerin is going to look after my daughter!"
Maria instantly regretted passing on that piece of information as she quickly tried to repair the damage. "Liz is coming as well, with Max and Isabel."
"Ah, Max Evans?"
"Yes, Mom. Max Evans. You've met him like a dozen times."
"Now why can't you find a nice, wholesome boyfriend like him?"
Maria opened her mouth to protest, although she would like to agree with her for once. Her sentence was cut short by a knock at the door. "That'll be Michael. I'll see you later, Mom."
She grabbed her bag and kissed her mother lightly on the cheek, slamming the door just in time to hear, "Tell Mr. Guerin you'd better be back before ten or..." before Maria was out of earshot.
The pair joined Max, Isabel and Liz at the jeep. Maria squeezed in beside her friend. "I was starting to think I'd have to resort to pre-pubescent climbing out of windows for this."
Michael gave her a lopsided smile, "Didn't you climb out of your window to meet me last Thursday?" Maria sent him a flaming look.
Liz smiled, "Tell me about it. I hate lying but I had to tell my dad I was doing a piece on it for the student paper otherwise he would have had a fit."
Pulling out into the road, Max glanced tensely in the rear view mirror, levelling his friends with a stern gaze. "Guys, I need you to be careful tonight, okay? No drawing attention to ourselves unnecessarily."
Maria patted him on the shoulder, plastering a knowing smile across her face. "Don't you worry about a thing, Max. I've got a perfect plan up my sleeve. We'll get all the information you need. Just stay cool."
Max felt his heart lurch in his chest. He had seen that smile before, like the time when she tried to seduce a bouncer into letting them enter an over 21 club and when she had attempted to blag here way through security at the library after closing. This was not good with a capital 'n'.
For once, Michael agreed. Turning swiftly in his seat, he forced Maria to look at him. "Whatever you're thinking, Maria, just forget it, all right?"
Her mouth drooped into a sulk. "God, do you people have no faith in me?"
Liz squeezed her hand, lightly. "It's not that, Maria, it's just...this is kind of delicate and we..."
Maria gasped, "Oh my God, you as well! My best friend!? None of you think I can be delicate about this, do you? I can't believe this. To think I call you my friends."
Liz looked to Michael with the vain hope that he might step in to calm his girlfriend. Instead, he gave her his customary expression of pure exasperation and stared out of the window.
By the time the group reached the town hall, you could have sliced the air with a butter knife. They filed silently into the main room and took their seats, choosing a place which was sufficiently near the front to give them a good view but still ensuring that their faces blended seamlessly into the crowd of nobodies.
Maria leaned over Michael towards Isabel and asked, "Where's Alex? I thought he was coming tonight."
Isabel's face flushed suddenly and she tried vainly to support that smile she always used when covering something up. "Um, I think he, uh, decided not to come or something."
Maria scrutinised her for a moment, then asked, "Did you guys have a fight?"
Isabel licked her dry lips, "Something like that...I'll tell you later, okay."
Maria was about to ask more but Michael forcibly levered her back into her chair, snapping, "Not now, all right. There are more important things to think about than Isabel having a spat with Alex Whitman, okay."
Maria gasped in anger and sat back, sulkily, in her chair, mustering all her energy into giving Michael the cold shoulder.
Max took his place beside Liz and felt her squeeze his hand. He returned her warm smile but his heart was far from being in the gesture. He just wanted to get this over with. It felt like a trip to the doctor's because you'd found a mysterious lump and were about to find out if you faced a long life ahead of you or a few months spent lying in pain on a respirator while your body packed up on you organ by organ. Whatever these people wanted was still a mystery. They could be chasing space animals or they could be a genuine threat, people imbued with knowledge about 1947 and the orbs. The lights dimmed, plunging the auditorium into atmospheric darkness. Max took a deep breath. They were about to find out.
Music began to issue from speakers set up around the walls, a low, resonating, sonorous note permeated the crowd. People began to talk in low whispers like an audience attending some magnificent new show in town. Stars began to twinkle in the background of the stage, sparkling like diamonds on the bible black curtains which shifted slightly with movements from behind them.
Max glanced over at his sister. Her eyes were transfixed by the scene, blue irises flitting from the dramatic scene laid out before them to the shadows of feet visible beneath the curtain. Her knuckles were white with tension as her hands clasped one another.
Suddenly, with a blinding flash, the curtains swung open and a man in long robes strode into centre stage. Strobe lighting engulfed his tall frame, dancing across his skin, turning him into a living jigsaw of pieces no one could put together.
Liz tightened her grip on Max's arm and he could feel her jump when a deep, booming voice came across the powerful microphone.
"Welcome to an evening of enlightenment. Now is your chance to embrace the future, to expand your horizons beyond the tethers of your wildest imaginations. Bear with me as I release your mind from the trappings of human fear and disbelief. Together we can realize the future of all futures - of mankind and his unearthly allies."
The man's voice was both eloquent and compelling. Liz could feel it echoing around the expansive room yet, simultaneously, it insinuated itself into her ear like an intimate whisper.
"We are the Celestial Earthlights Union, the CEO, and tonight, ladies and gentleman, you have chosen your entertainment well."
In one gliding movement, the man deftly removed his cloak and the lights flickered for a second before illuminating the stage to reveal the speaker as a sinewy, thin man with a wiry beard and moustache. His dark hair haloed in unruly curls around his head and there were already beads of sweat on his forehead under the glare of the spotlight. All in all, he was quite the antithesis to what anyone in the hall would have expected. The dramatic display they had just witnessed was completely out of proportion to the mousy man presented to them now. He wore a plain brown, wool suit and a tasteless mint green shirt underneath. His shoes were scuffed with laces threatening to come loose at any moment.
Liz glanced at Max in surprise but he seemed equally miffed by the sight before them.
The man smiled graciously and produced a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles from his top pocket before taking his place at the centre of the stage. "Welcome, citizens of Roswell. My name is Theodore Preston. I am the president and founder of the CEO. Do I have your attention now?" The question was posed with a playful smile, instantly disarming the sceptical faces among those assembled.
"Despite the ear-shattering sound effects - thank you, Bill!" He pointed to a fat man sitting in the sound booth at the back of the auditorium, then continued, "- I still heard the sniggers and comments. It is the same everywhere I go...which is exactly why I use it."
Isabel rolled her eyes in Michael's direction as the man began to pace the stage like a university professor, one hand in his trouser pocket. Isabel found her mind wandering already, wondering why men did that. Surely it couldn't be comfortable when his hand barely fitted in the small pocket anyway. Her initial fear had waned from the moment she had glimpsed the tweed beneath those impressive robes. She yawned, hoping this whole evening wasn't going to be a complete waste of time. She had given up late night opening at the mall for this.
Mr. Preston continued, "You see, ladies and gentlemen, I was just like you. I AM just like you. You have all heard about the CEO's arrival in town, that we are lunatic alien hunters, conspiracy theorists ready to jump on board the first ET bandwagon we can find. Perhaps you have even done a little research, discovered offences and charges levelled against our community. Well, the truth is that 'yes' and 'no', the assumptions you will have made are both correct and incorrect.
"The spectacle I have just shown you is what you wanted to see, right? You sat down and felt a wave of satisfaction that I was falling directly into your trap, that you were right all along. The CEO are completely mad and now you can dismiss us and return to a normal life where aliens do not exist and we are the only living beings in the entire universe. Am I right?"
A few upright citizens who had taken front row seats to emphasise their indignation began to shift uncomfortably in their chairs. This did not go unnoticed by Preston as his watery blue eyes darted along the row of faces there. "Well, let me tell you something, people. We are not mad...and this evening is not intended to recruit you into our group. On the contrary, I just want to reach a mutual understanding, perhaps even find some common ground and some mutual respect."
At this, an audible babble rose from the audience and a few hands shot up. Mr. Preston raised his palms in mock surrender. "If you kind folk would save your questions, there will be a Q and A at the end of the talk."
Michael and Isabel shared exasperated looks. This was getting worse with every passing moment. Max, however, remained tense and alert in his seat. This man hadn't said anything to make them worried yet but he hadn't said anything to reassure them either. His academic approach to the evening made the teenager nervous. Preston had already proved himself an excellent showman, but was this just a guise, too, or was it his true colour? Perhaps the man honestly had something to say, maybe he knew something more.
"I want to get some aspects of our group rectified straight off the bat here, people. Number one - the CEO is NOT a cult. We do not recruit or brainwash. We are simply a proportion of like-minded people with a desire to communicate with extra-terrestrials in every way possible.
"Number two - we do not subscribe to government cover-up suppositions. That is to say, we are NOT conspiracy theorists. I have spent many years investigating the roots of military association from ETs and have found them to be mostly conjecture with tenuous links to the real thing.
"Over the next..." He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist and raised his eyebrows, "...forty seven minutes, I will attempt to present you with some of the evidence we have based our allegiance on. I would be happy to take questions during that time."
Michael felt Maria sit up straighter in her chair, suddenly more alert. He began to get concerned again. What had she been saying in the car about cards up her sleeve? God, he prayed she wasn't going to do something stupid and, well, Maria-ish. The last thing they needed was for the freak on stage to single them out as trouble makers, ones to be watched. They'd never be able to extract any information from them that way.
Leaning close, he whispered urgently in Maria's ear. "You do anything stupid and I swear we are finished."
Maria pouted, emphatically, and gave Michael a withering look. "Ooh, I'm so scared. Just trust me, will you?"
Mr. Preston droned on for a while longer about a few of the phenomena he wanted to cover while some assistants set up an overhead projector at the centre of the stage and rolled out a huge screen. Preston began by discussing the dynamics of the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis, stating that the UFOs seen across the world and documented as far back as 214 BC are piloted by sentient beings from other planets.
The audience sat politely for the first half hour apart from a few antagonists who were quietly removed by security. There was an amusing group of fanatics who dominated one side of the hall, nodding furiously at every proposition and scribbling maniacally, trying to harness Preston's words of sheer wisdom.
Max, Liz and Isabel seemed perfectly happy to sit and listen to the man expound all the possibilities which they had heard a thousand times. Occasionally, Isabel would crack some joke under her breath about details Preston had omitted to prevent his audience losing interest. She, like her brother, had spent endless hours in libraries and surfing the internet in the hope of finding some legitimate clue as to their heritage or how they might get back there. None of this was new to them but they needed to hear it, just in case.
Michael, on the other hand, had other concerns. Maria had been mumbling under her breath and sorting through crumpled notes she had produced from her bag. Every time he looked over her shoulder she would whip them out of his sight which only heightened his worry. She was up to something, she was going to challenge Preston and he had to stop her.
"Maria, don't you dare do this! I'm warning you."
As a final act of defiance, Maria looked at her boyfriend coldly as she put her hand up. Michael was just about to forcibly pull it down when Preston pointed towards her, "Yes, miss...the girl in the orange shirt."
Maria smiled graciously at Michael and stood up, "Yes. Mr. Preston you say that these UFOs are controlled or piloted by aliens."
Preston gave her a condescending smile. "Yes, that's right."
"Well, since we are already in the realms of what most people would call science fiction, what do you think of the theory that these craft are actually manned by humans from the future who have mastered time travel?"
Preston grinned, as if the idea was the perfect example to show his own intelligence on the subject. "That's a good question, young lady, and one that I think should be considered. However, the concept that there are humans with the ability to travel through time but have still managed to keep it a secret is much more far-fetched than any alien idea. The population and density of people on planet Earth makes it quite unlikely that time travel could have been attained without even a hint of suspicion."
Maria interrupted, "Yes, but there has been suspicion, hasn't there? I mean, it explains government cover-up."
"Perhaps, but no more than any extra-terrestrial liaison. I ask you, when you heard of the time travel hypothesis, was there a great deal of evidence or just a paragraph of conspiracies to support it?"
Maria blushed under the humiliation of his patronising gaze. When she did not answer, he opened his hands in a gesture of inevitability. "There are hundreds, thousands of documents supporting the theory of extra-terrestrial communication with Earth and only one man's belief in time travel as an explanation." He moved away from her, "But thank you for the question. It's nice to know some of our audience came prepared."
Maria sat back down, feeling hot and irritated for the way she had just been treated. She ignored Michael's disgusted expression and the shocked look on Liz's face when she caught her eye. Maria couldn't believe that stupid man could flounce into Roswell and make her feel so small when he was driving some dumb cult. Nobody ever believed those freaks and they always spouted a load of crap so how had she been made to look like a fool?!
Preston continued to discuss his theories for another ten minutes before moving onto the subject of space animals which elicited some sniggers from the crowd. He went on to posit that these UFOs are actually not craft at all but creatures that he believed had landed on Earth and was present in society.
"They are quite possibly the closest thing we will ever come to angels - messengers of a God we can only imagine as a fatherly figure watching over our planet from the heavens."
Maria saw her chance and leapt for it. She wouldn't be outdone. "Excuse me, Mr. Preston?"
She saw him visibly recoil at the sight of her, his body tensing as if her voice grated against his ears. Through gritted teeth, he enquired, "Yes?"
Maria asked, "You're talking about angels and stuff. Does this mean you have a religious belief in all this?"
Preston was silent for a moment. Maria grinned down at Michael in triumph. He did not want to encourage her but he had to admit it was a valid question. It was one thing to have alien fanatics on their hands but it was a whole different ball game if they turned out to be religious proselytes.
After a moment's consideration, Preston declared, "It is true that the CEO's interest in this phenomenon goes beyond a mere technological stand. However, I do not want to go into the religious and personal aspects of our work because that is private."
Maria raised her eyebrows. Oh yes, she had won. The room had gone completely silent; there was not a single person whispering as they had been doing for the duration of his speech. She had caught him out just as she had hoped. That would teach him to try and belittle a DeLuca in front of her kinsmen.
He went on, "I will say this, though. I told you earlier that the CEO is not a cult and I stand by that. Modern beliefs only hold two camps, those who believe in the spiritual beyond us or those who proscribe to the concept that technology holds all the answers. I simply want to unite the two, to fuse the material with the spiritual. It would be vanity to assume we have already mastered comprehension of every plane on which the soul can function. We are trapped in a corporeal body, that is how we limit our perceptions. Is it not possible that technology is simply the key to uniting us with our God on another level? For what is God but an omnipotent being with the power to control and command, the power to heal all wounds, the power to show us what we could never achieve alone? All I ask is that you consider whether the God I seek is any more attainable than that which you pray to?"
As if sensing the revolt in the room, the tides turning against him, Preston abruptly glanced up at the large wall clock. "Look at the time. I fear I will overstay my welcome."
Hands waved around in the crowd, people clamouring to be heard. "I will take one more question." Preston chose a meek looking woman near the front of the congregation, hoping it would not be an awkward one to end with.
"So what have you been building in Roswell for?"
Preston nodded emphatically like some counsellor who understand everybody's feelings and knew how to settle the minds of his minions. "Ah yes, well, the CEO building is both a sanctuary for the group members and also a research centre. Over the years, between myself and loyal members, we have raised a substantial amount of money to spend on furthering our interest in this field. After all, such a company could hardly be founded on hearsay and the accounts of others. We strive to find proof for ourselves."
The woman saw him prepare to pack up and quickly added, "And what about the accusations that you abducted and assaulted people whom you believed to be aliens?"
Preston swallowed, hurriedly, and concisely concluded, "Like any organization, there are those who are more enthusiastic and fervent in their convictions. As such, our name has been blackened by those who have taken the cause beyond what is reasonable. Thank you, madam, but those are all the questions I can take this evening. Time is pressing. If anyone wishes for further information on the CEO, feel free to put it in writing or make an appointment with myself at a later date.
"To finish, I would just like to ask you this. Is it possible that we could be the only living beings in the entire universe? Or is that the brainwashing you so fear? It is a product of ignorance and fear and only you can fight it." After a pregnant pause, he finished, "Thank you."
The stage was instantly plunged into darkness and the curtains swung closed amidst a scattered round of applause from zealous tourists and the mumble of disgusted citizens who had been ready to leave an hour ago.
Isabel stood up stiffly, gently rolling her neck to ease the discomfort from sitting in the plastic bucket seats all evening. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Max and Liz filed out of the row and Michael marched off, leaving Maria to gather her fallen notes alone. He was in no mood to talk to her right now. He'd just get angry and that would only add to their troubles.
Stepping out into the foyer, Max drew the group towards an isolated corner while the locals milled around the stalls set up or headed for the bar.
Isabel crossed her arms, "Well, I think we can sleep soundly tonight."
Max shook his head, "I'm not so sure."
Isabel snorted, "Give me a break, Max! The guy was a nut."
"I don't think so. I mean, he didn't seem like the usual crazies you see around here."
Michael could feel his temper rising. He knew it was mainly because of him that they had even bothered to come tonight, but even he was starting to have his doubts as to whether the CEO was worth getting worked up over. Theodore Preston had delivered a unique speech, that much was true, but he could hardly be called a great mind. They had already had the FBI on their tail, somehow the prospect of Preston's cult didn't quite hold the same fear.
Eyeing Max suspiciously, he asked, "So what are you suggesting we do?"
Max looked from one expectant face to the other. "I'm saying we should keep a close eye on all their activities. If they are as devoted to this cause as they say they are, I'd say we've definitely got something to worry about."
Finally, Maria caught up with them. She was carrying a paper bag in one hand now and had a huge grin plastered across her face. "Guys, didn't I kick ass back there?!"
Michael noted, dryly, "That's one way of putting it."
Liz smiled at her friend, "You did great, Maria. Where did you pull up all that information?"
Maria giggled, "'The Real Science Behind The X-Files'!"
Isabel gestured to the paper bag she was holding. "What's in there?"
"Oh, the town council had a stall over there. I figured I'd find out about the CEO's planning permission applications. Anyway, they gave me one of their booklets about every application throughout Roswell. Yeah, I've got the CEO in here somewhere between Mr. Smith's extension and Mrs. Jones' new garage." She shrugged, "It could be useful, right?" She was met with a row of blank faces. "Well, I don't see you guys with any exclusive information."
Max glanced around the hall, "Come on, let's go home."
Maria watched her friends go. Weren't they even going to thank her? She had spent hours researching UFOs for them, to help them, and this was all the recognition she got. She cursed under her breath, adding wryly, "You're welcome."
She ran to catch up with Michael who had gone on ahead with Isabel as if his girlfriend wasn't even there. "Michael, wait up!"
He didn't change his stride and Maria was forced to skip just to keep up with him. He was silent as they walked across the car park. Maria suddenly halted in the middle of the tarmac and accused, "Michael, what the hell is wrong with you? I spend hours of my time trying to help you, doing research and humiliating myself in front of the whole town and I don't even get a 'thank you'?"
Michael whirled on her, barely able to conceal his disgust. "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry. Thank you so much."
His voice dripped with sarcasm and Maria swallowed, dryly. She had expected a lot of reactions from her boyfriend but the end had justified the means, hadn't it? "I don't get you, Michael. What did I do that was so wrong?"
Michael fixed her with a cold, penetrating gaze, and she felt herself physically recoil under his onyx stare. "You know, you're some piece of work, Maria. We've spent years trying to keep a low profile, trying to keep the government off our backs, praying they don't find us and dissect us before we can find out something about where we're from. Then, in one stupid move, you bring the whole thing down! You waltz in there asking absurd questions and making a spectacle of yourself."
Maria opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off before the first word had formed on her lips. "Do you think in all those hours of research you did, you found ONE piece of information we haven't already studied?! Every day of our lives has been spent trying to find out whether those stories are true, whether there is an ounce of truth in space animals or alien abduction accounts. If we'd wanted to be the centre of attention, we could have done it on our own! We can do all of this on our own!"
Maria was stunned. How could he say this to her after all they had been through together. She would do anything for him and yet Michael just couldn't see it. Suddenly, she felt like a doll ripped of her stuffing. The fight left her like a ghost passing through her body and she succumbed to defeat. "Is that really how you feel? That you want me out?"
Michael paused for a moment, then finished coldly, "You know, you and Liz have been party to our secret for months now and you go around saying you're trying to help, that you care. Well, I've got a news flash for you. I don't buy it. All of that...that display you put on back there, it wasn't about us at all. It was all about YOU. The pair of you just feed off the drama of this whole situation, but this is MY life, okay! When you're long gone, I'll still be living in it!" He stopped short, lowering his voice. "Maybe you're right. It's just better if you stay away from now on. No more helping, researching, talking to people. Just forget you ever knew us, all right."
Without waiting for a response, Michael stormed off into the darkness, directing his course as far away from Max's jeep as possible, leaving Maria standing alone in the empty parking lot.
The journey home felt like a year even though it couldn't have been more than a fifteen minute round trip. Liz noticed how quiet Maria had become since getting in the car. Her chirpy disposition had given way to utter dejection and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that Michael had something to do with it. They had waited for a good ten minutes before Maria told Max their friend probably wasn't going to join them. Usually, Liz had an infallible knack of seeing directly through Maria but tonight she was caught up in her own anxiety, or was it Max's?
She could feel it emanating from him in disjointed, fractured waves and, if Liz had been able to see auras, she could imagine how rusty and grey his would have been. She watched his steady eyes focusing on the road ahead, those brown irises shutting down his brain into a locked cell of confusion and concentration. Liz knew she wouldn't be able to reach him tonight, no matter how hard she tried. Besides, she didn't need to hear his words to know the gist of what he was thinking. Max Evans was mentally taking over as leader once again, trying to think of a way to deal with this situation with minimal action and disruption.
The jeep pulled up outside the DeLuca house and Maria mumbled a hasty goodnight before all but running up her driveway. Neither Max nor Isabel seemed to notice her sudden reticence but Liz made a mental note to follow it up the next morning. They drove on to the Crashdown and Liz leaned over to kiss Max lightly on the cheek. She wished she could be closer to him but Liz knew he wouldn't really be with her. He mustered up enough enthusiasm to give her a goodnight kiss in return before pulling away from the kerb.
"How was the meeting?" Mrs. Evans asked when Isabel slammed the front door.
Isabel glanced at Max who was already lost in thought. "Oh, it sucked big time. It was more like a science paper than any talk, plus Maria decided to ask a whole load of embarrassing questions." She quickly changed the subject, "Are there any leftovers? I'm starving."
"There's some quiche in the refrigerator. I'm off to bed." Mrs. Evans kissed her daughter and delivered a quick hug to Max. "Night, you two. Don't stay up too late."
Isabel smiled, demurely. "We won't." She opened the refrigerator and rifled around for something sweet before slumping down on the sofa. "Max, either sit down or go to bed. You're making me nervous."
Max hadn't moved from his spot near the front door. "I'm going to bed."
He had one foot on the stairs when Isabel said, "Max? Do you really think the CEO is something to worry about?"
Max followed her wide-eyed, perplexed gaze. "No, Is. It's probably nothing." He summoned up a convincing smile and made a beeline for his room. Right now he just wanted to be alone.
Flinging himself down on the bed, Max closed his eyes and let his fingers gently massage his pounding head. Sometimes, he felt like he was trapped in an interrogation room, people firing questions at him and scrutinizing his every move. Isabel, Michael, Liz, his parents...they all watched him like hawks for some signal about what he was feeling. They looked to him for guidance when he didn't have any more of a clue than they did. Plus, Michael was such a loose cannon that Max just felt so bitter towards him. One second he'd be gallivanting off to create havoc and the next minute he'd be berating his friend for not keeping them safe. To compound matters, Michael always boiled every trouble back down to the day that Max saved Liz's life at the Crashdown Café.
It made him feel so responsible and then it made him angry. Why did he have to take the lead? When had it been decreed that he was the one who knew what was going on? Had he put it on himself or had they forced him? God, it had been so long since he had just been the carefree follower that Max wasn't even sure he'd know how to exist that way. Maybe that was the answer - it was just his nature, perhaps an alien part of him. No matter how annoyed and frustrated he became sometimes, there was something which dwelt in the core of Max Evans that knew this was his destiny, that it couldn't be any other way. He just occasionally wished there were more signs to help him understand.
Isabel poked at her lunch with a measure of disgust, lifting the top of her sandwich with two perfectly manicured nails to scrutinise the contents. Deciding she'd be safer sticking to foods she could actually identify, she took a bite of her apple. She couldn't make up her mind whether her sudden dissatisfaction with her meal was genuine or caught up in the topsy-turvy world Alex Whitman had thrown her into. She felt like there was a weight pressing down on her chest which she couldn't lift. Her harsh words echoed around her head whenever she was alone, reminding her of what a bitch she had been. Isabel didn't know who she hated more, Alex for bringing out the worst in her or herself for letting things get that far.
Caught up in her thoughts, Isabel didn't notice Maria take a seat beside her. The characteristically bubbly girl was disconcertingly quiet and, after a moment, even Isabel couldn't ignore the pervading silence. "Hey, Maria. What's up?"
Maria produced her lunch box and slammed it onto the table. "Nothing. Nothing at all." She spoke the words slowly and deliberately, venom dripping from every syllable.
"Same here," Isabel muttered in reply. "You want to talk about it?"
Maria shook her head, emphatically. "No." Respecting her friend's wishes, Isabel took another bite of her apple and bitterly surveyed the scene around them. Happy couples and giggling groups of girls - all the things she used to think feasible for herself but which grew more and more distant with each passing day.
Unable to control herself, Maria suddenly blurted out, "God, why does he have to be so...so mean?"
Isabel focused her attention back on Maria. This was just what she needed. Somebody to give her another train of thought than Alex. It was killing her. She hadn't seen him since yesterday, not even in class, and Isabel couldn't decide if she was more worried that he might come and speak to her or that he wouldn't.
"I mean, one minute he's blowing really hot and then the next minute he's telling me he doesn't want to see me anymore. Why do I let him mess me around like this? I should have dumped him a long time ago."
Isabel pointed out, "You did, but then you just got back together again."
Maria fiddled with the wrapping on her straw, grappling unsuccessfully with the plastic cellophane. "He's just such a bastard. You know, there are days when I would happily wring his neck or when I'd be so happy to hear that he's finally decided to leave Roswell for good. Then, the next minute I'm feeling all weird, like I'm missing him. I hate it!"
Isabel felt a smile creep across her face. Maria could be like a cracked record sometimes, except for the odd occasion when the needle jumped a groove and she was in love for a few seconds out of eternity. Still, she had to feel sorry for the girl. In all the time Isabel had spent with Michael since they had known Maria, he rarely spoke about her except when he was annoyed with her. Maybe that was their fatal flaw. Michael Guerin consumed Maria's conscious mind but Maria DeLuca was nothing more than an occasionally welcome distraction to Michael.
On the other hand, whatever Michael had said to Maria couldn't have been far off what she had said to Alex the other night. It just made her feel even more isolated to realize that she could sympathise with Michael but couldn't truly understand how devastated Maria was. It simply highlighted the fact that they were different, so different it might destroy any chance they had of finding happiness on Earth.
Trying to be helpful, Isabel noted, "Michael has always been a loner, Maria. I don't think that will ever change. He's the kind of guy where you fit in with him. There is no compromise."
Maria sighed, "Yeah, well how selfish is that?" Isabel didn't reply and Maria threw the unopened straw onto the table top, swearing under her breath. Her hands were mysteriously sweating and shaking, plus she was starting to feel a bit tearful. She quailed at the thought of breaking down in the middle of the quad, especially in front of Isabel.
Sensing Maria's fragile state, Isabel took the straw and adeptly unwrapped it, sticking it into the top of her juice carton. "There." Maria didn't answer, making her doubly sure the girl was close to tears. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not faring much better."
Maria looked up, grateful that the subject had moved away from her. "You and Alex? I haven't seen him today."
Isabel raised her eyebrows, knowingly. "Exactly."
Maria's jaw dropped. It was rare for Alex to get upset and even rarer for him to crawl under a rock afterwards. He was the guy who always bounced back. "My God, what did you say to him?"
Isabel shook her head as if it were nothing of importance. "I kind of said some stuff I didn't mean."
"When? Like what?" Maria sat forward, alert.
Isabel brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her mouth. "He just caught me at a bad time. He was going on about dates and movies and I was wondering whether we were going to have to leave Roswell again and... I told him he didn't mean anything to me, that I didn't want to see him anymore."
Maria took a sip of her drink, then asked, "Did you mean it?"
Isabel thought for a moment. That was a question she'd been asking herself ever since the day it had happened. "I don't know. At the time I suppose I did."
Maria stared at her companion for a moment, then quietly added, "Do you think Michael did?"
Isabel felt a pang of regret ricochet around her chest. For the first time, she felt a heavy weight of genuine sympathy for what Maria must be going through. Or perhaps it was guilt, guilt because Maria was a pure reflection of what Alex must enduring - because of her. It was written all across the girl's face - how much she care for Michael, how hurt she was that he had rejected her. Somehow, she couldn't find it in herself to lie. "I don't know."
Maria nodded, sombrely. She had known it was futile. Isabel couldn't give her a straight answer anymore than Maria could give herself.
Isabel took a final bite from her half eaten apple. She didn't feel hungry anymore. In fact, she felt strangely ill. Getting up, she threw the remainder of her lunch into the trash can. "I'd better go. See you later, Maria." Isabel didn't really know where she needed to go but it had to be somewhere quiet. She just wanted to be alone. She might as well get used to it, after all.
"Max." Liz caught up with her boyfriend in the crowded hallway. He turned as if surprised to see her there. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure. You?"
Liz pulled her bag further up on to her shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine." She couldn't help but feel the question had only been asked to deflect her from giving him the third degree. "Listen, Max, there's a new band playing in town tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go?"
She was fully anticipating a gloomy, half-hearted refusal but was shocked when Max stopped suddenly and looked down at her. "I'd love to." Catching her smile, he brushed fingers lightly over Liz's blushed cheek. "I love you, Liz."
Liz found herself staring up into those eyes, losing herself in the ecstasy that Max made her feel whenever they were together. It was electric, yet not nearly as brutal, more like coils of warm light shooting through her whole body, exploding in her stomach and head. Max leaned closer and planted a tender kiss on her frosted lips. He nuzzled her ear, breathing, "Let's go to the eraser room." Gripping his hand in hers, Liz let him drag her down the corridor to the only sanctuary from the bustle of school life.
Isabel hadn't been sure where she needed to be when she left Maria, but when she reached the bleachers, it all became clear. A narrow figure was huddled near the far end of the top step, staring out onto the empty football pitch. Taking a deep breath, Isabel climbed to the top of the steps and walked towards the black blot in the distance.
With each step, the figure became more detailed, gradually taking on the characteristics of a proper human being, one that Isabel knew only too well. The bleachers seemed to stretch out into infinity, making each move forward insignificant. She wasn't sure if she could cope with facing him now. From the edge of the field, he had been nothing more than a faceless blob onto which she could project any emotion, any words. Now, as she neared Alex Whitman, Isabel lost all sense of capability in this situation.
She sat down quietly beside him and followed his gaze out across the pitch. "Hi, Alex."
He looked up at the sky, avoiding making eye contact with her. "If you're here to tear more strips off me, I wouldn't bother. I don't think there's much left to take, Isabel."
Isabel winced at the sound of her own name, said with such contempt. She was lost for words. How could she tell him she hadn't meant any of what she had said? Nobody could believe those crushing blows were dealt from a good imagination. They had their roots in truth and Isabel knew it. "Alex, I know I have no right to come here and... Those things I said the other night, you have to understand where they came from. I said some awful things, but it wasn't all about you. You got caught in the line of fire and I guess..."
Alex snorted, derisively. "Isabel, the whole reason I came out here was to get away from you, so I wouldn't have to listen to your excuses. I know you feel bad but you can't take it back. You meant every word."
Isabel pursed her lips and wracked her brains to think of something reassuring to say. "I didn't. You've got to try and see it from my point of view. I was worried about the cult..."
Alex whirled on her, "No, I don't have to see it from any direction, Isabel! I've been a lap dog to you for months and you've treated me like dirt. Now, you want me to play confessor and pardoner. Well, I won't. You're just going to have to put up with the guilt a bit longer."
Isabel opened her mouth to respond but it was as if her vocal chords had given out. There was nothing she could say to that. Alex was right. She had believed she had sought him out to make him feel better but beneath any desire for Alex to be happy again was a selfish need to ease her own conscience. Suddenly, all the loneliness which she had held at bay for weeks came crashing in on her. Desperately holding back tears, Isabel stammered, "I'm so sorry, Alex, for all of this. I know this will take time, but I will prove it to you. I promise I'll make it up to you, no matter what it takes."
A tiny muscle pulsed in Alex's jaw, his knuckles whitening against one another. Acknowledging that everything had been said for now, Isabel stood to leave. She had taken a few steps when Alex's voice came, quiet and thready. "It really hurt, Isabel."
Isabel nodded, "I know." Images of Maria's dejected face, her vacant gaze ever staring into the depths of herself, trying to comprehend why Michael hated her so much. Isabel hated herself for having the power to inflict the same on Alex, who had been nothing but a friend and supporter throughout everything.
Maria had staggered through the day like a soldier in shock, buffeted from one activity to another with barely a second's knowledge of what was happening to her. Michael's words bounced back at her endlessly, blocking out everything else. She swung from the pits of despair when she wished she were dead to consuming fires of anger, hatred emanating from her body, bristling along her spine. No thought stayed with her long enough to keep her steady and by the time she reached home, Maria was exhausted.
Dismissing her mother's mundane queries about school and homework, Maria shut her bedroom door on the world and sank down into her chair. As if the wells of loneliness had been waiting until she was in the sanctuary of her own home, Maria suddenly felt the damn of emotions breaking. Her shoulders heaving with broken sobs, the tears fell unhindered down her cheeks in silent lament. The torrent was uncontrollable and the teenager could do little more than ride out the waves.
Eventually, the rivers dried up and Maria was left feeling numb and exhausted. Reaching for her tissues, she blew her nose and lay down on the bed. The experience had left her feeling remarkably liberated and clear-headed. In fact, she found her thoughts finally shifting to the rational and mundane like how red and puffy her face must look. She took a sniff from one of her many vials lined up haphazardly along the top of the dresser. It didn't matter which one just as long as it brought her to life.
Sucking in a deep breath, she lay staring up at the ceiling. Maria found the white canvas above her mysteriously therapeutic, like a clean slate on which to project her jumbled emotions. In one corner near the door, she put Michael and all his problems, both old and new. Then, in the corner near the window, Maria placed herself, imbued with the light of day and a symbolically positive outlook on the world. In the middle, near the lamp shade, was the halfway point between the artificial electric light and the darkness. It was a metaphor for Michael and Maria's relationship. It was a manufactured, ugly imitation of the natural light dancing by the window but it was infinitely better than the darkness pervading Michael's corner of the room. In fact, his corner was gloomy and miserable, near the door which Maria incorporated into her design as his constant need to run. It represented his inability to commit but also the way he had been treated all his life. He had always been on the other side of the door, shut out from love, constantly on the verge of packing his bags. Michael had been forced to be self-sufficient, self-reliant, and it was only Maria's persistence which had enabled her to get past base one.
She drew in an involuntary gasp of air as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Maria's iron will finally kicked in after a day and night spent in vulnerable shock from his words. She had never pitied Michael, that much was true, but she did love him. It was difficult for either of them to stay together long enough to say the words and, even if they had, there would have been skid marks out of town. Michael couldn't handle the idea that he was getting close to something real with Maria and it was a coping mechanism for him to push her away. Like the body's immune system kicking in just when it was needed, Michael's hatred for the world burst forth on those closest to him as a means of locking them out. He had said it once before, that he didn't need to be loved, that it was a weakness. On one occasion, after they had fought for a week, Maria had finally patched everything up and, in a rare moment of true intimacy, Michael had shown her the chink in his armour. It sent shivers down Maria's spine to recall the hardness in his voice, "I do it because I want to be hated. I don't deserve to be loved."
He had been left so many times, by his alien parents, by Max and Isabel in the desert, by countless foster parents. It was hardly surprising that, after seventeen years, Michael couldn't comprehend why love was so important to the rest of the world. He had survived without it so far, why knock a good thing? That was just it though, Maria thought. He had 'survived'. He hadn't lived, he hadn't experienced. Michael Guerin had locked his soul away somewhere in the recesses of that impregnable mind, all but the anger and resentment which he flung out occasionally.
Maria's gaze travelled from Michael's cobwebbed, cracked corner of the ceiling, across the lamp shade and towards her own enlightened side by the window. The space between them seemed interminable. Maria felt a shimmer of frustration - the daylight could never reach that far. How was she supposed to get there?
Like a bolt of lightning striking through her brain, it came to her. There was only one way. She would have to go into the gloom and build the light up from the inside out. Yes, she would have to share the dismal mess inside Michael, go under the cobwebs and delve into the cracks. She could never reach him without true understanding.
First, Maria had to prove herself to him, prove that he meant the world to her. And she knew just how to do it.
END OF PART TWO