Part XIIIMax
It's summer now. Next year me and Michael and Isabel start high school. It's supposed to be the best summer we've had so far.
And I guess it is.
Dad talked to Mom so I have as much space as I need. Actually, they usually kick me out of the house and tell me to play outside before I say, "I want to go out."
Our parents are 'deeply concerned' about Isabel. She runs with the popular crowd. And lately the popular incumbent freshmen girls think it's cool to run around with some of the high school boys. Dad does not like that. Mom gets this pinched look and says, "Well, we just have to trust her, Philip. After all she's our daughter. We raised her right."
I tell Kyle that if she ever winds up in a 'bad place' (Ie pregnant, drunk or high) I'll hold him personally responsible.
Kyle takes care of her. She won't let me do the job anymore, and Michael got verbally beaten up when he suggested she might not be ready for the kind of crap that crowd does.
Kyle and Michael are my best guy friends. Well, only, best, why quibble? I'm not like Isabel. She needs the sun. I prefer the shadows. I can watch from the shadows. I can watch, and think and plan. I'm a careful person. I like having a plan. I like having thought things out ahead of time.
Michael does not. He plays it by ear. He's a spur of the minute kind of guy. He says, "Details, details. Who needs 'em?"
I say "It's the small stuff that differentiates 'good' from 'great'."
Tess would back me up. But Tess isn't here. I know Isabel and Michael still think I'm mad at her. Honestly I'm not. Not mad. Still hurt that she didn't trust me enough to tell me she was leaving. But then, Isabel passes on her messages. She and Isabel still talk through their dreams. I wish she would talk to me. The last time we had a dream conversation was Christmas. She had bruises on her cheeks and I wanted to heal her so bad—I wanted to make her better, but she wasn't there physically, just her mental projection of herself.
She wouldn't talk about the bruises, or how she got them. She's very stubborn. I think it must be a trait that everyone on our planet has. Or maybe they chose the most stubborn people and sent us here. I wonder why though. I wonder why a lot. Why are all four of us here? Are we the only ones? What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to go back to where we came from? Can we go back?
I have lots of good questions, and not a lot of answers.
Tess says she has the answers. She says that once you have the answers, you don't want them. She says you want to go back to not knowing. She says not knowing is easier. I say "Tell me any way. I need to know."
And she says, "Needing to know hurts. Knowing hurts more."
And I asked her if knowing gave her the bruises on her face.
She said yes.
I said, "Tell me, so I'll get bruises and not you. I can heal them anyway."
And she shook her head. "I'll tell you but you wouldn't remember. How is Kyle?"
I told her I was friends with him now, so that when she comes home her brother and me will be okay with each other. And you know what she did? She smiled. Honest. She said "I'm glad."
I asked when she will come home.
She said, "I will come home when it's safe."
I asked if it was dangerous.
She nodded.
I asked how.
She said that there are people who aren't people, who are enemies. She told me that they watch a group of people like me and Isabel and Michael and even her. She said the people who are like us but not us live alone, no parents. These people who watch them think finding food and shelter and clothes tests them. Makes them stronger. The watchers test the powers of the aliens and their control too.
She said they treat the aliens like lab rats. She said that they have 'tagged' her. She said if she was with us she would lead them to us. She said that once she gets the tag off she'll come home. I didn't believe her but I felt sick at the same time. I asked her about the people aliens who are us but not us.
Her face (I still think she looks like love) told me a lot. It told me that as bad as everything is, she think she can handle it with me but not me and Isabel but not Isabel and Michael but not Michael. I don't think it's fair that me but not me gets two Tesses while I don't even get one. I told her that and she started to cry. She said she would come back when she could and that by then she hoped I had grown up.
My mother is always saying I'm too grown up, too mature. She says I'm not like other kids.
Tess seemed older than my mother then. Older than my teachers, older than anyone I know. She seemed too old. She needs to be younger and I need to be older before I can see her again.
What a world.
What a stupid crazy wonderful world.
Wonderful cause she's in it. Stupid cause there's a lot that isn't wonderful, and crazy because the not wonderful stuff is keeping her and me apart.