Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell or any of the characters those belong to
Jason Katims and such, but the bad things I could do with Michael!
Author's Note: You can reach me at Storydivagirl@hotmail.com, beholden.nu/white, or livejournal, username=storydivagirl. What is that? Does there seem to be a plot taken over now? Could it be? Wow! Shout outs to my wonderous beta, Steph, and to all of you leaving comments. I love the feedback! Feedback is my friend!
PART FIVE - THE PLAN
Prior to meeting Michael and getting swept up in a series of maddening events that never seemed to end, I had a very strong grasp on love. Sure, I had moments of temporary insanity where I succumbed to the girly calling of romantic sentiment, but I knew what I wanted out of life and exactly how love was supposed to fit into said life.
I watched my mother's revolving door of hippie losers and guys that wasted away their days in Grateful Dead cover bands. My mother loved each one, convinced that every guy would finally repair the damages done to her by my father. The "one" lasted for a good three to four months before the only remnants of his existence was packed away in our garage with the green shag carpeting and outdated clothes. They became ugly reminders that when pulled out, people cringed and wondered what the hell they were thinking. That was what enduring love did to people. Overstaying welcomes, outlasting the initial attraction and hormones filling the air, was never bittersweet.just bitter.
When I was thirteen, one of her boyfriends, much braver than most who avoided me at all costs (I was the reminder of the accidents that they might have created in a drug-induced coma of the past) once told me, "The best loves are those that last only for a summer." A mentality like that sucked for my mother, but I couldn't help but think it was a beautiful sentiment. Love should only last as long as a leg waxing. If done properly, love was impractical and impulsive like the red dress beckoning to you from the shop window that was radiant on you for a few weeks before falling apart in the dryer.
When I shared this epiphany with my best friend, Liz rolled her eyes and told me, "You're too young to be so cynical, Maria."
I didn't see it that way. I thought it was an amazing idea. Long-lasting love, the type that Nora Ephron stressed, was something sought after by the same people that refused to throw away milk on the expiration date. They allowed it to curdle and spoil until a horrendous odor permeated through everything. No, that was too real for me. And I wagged my finger in Liz's face, replying, "Love should be like a movie trailer-all the best parts in a two minute span, Liz. Life's too short to tolerate anything else."
"I don't buy it for a second. One day some guy's going to come along and change that stupid attitude of yours. I hope I'm there to see it," she countered before getting back to wiping down the counters at the Crashdown. It was as if she placed a hex on me that made all my principles fly out the window whenever a boy named Michael Guerin glanced in my direction.
In fairness, didn't we all understand such topics as love and commitment when removed from the situation? If Michael had been played by one of my mother's loser boyfriends and my mother had stepped into the role of Maria, I would've clearly seen the writing on the wall. Michael had been dangerous. Not because of shape shifters and government agencies and whatever else, but because he got me to believe curdled milk was appealing. He shot me full of incurable hope in something that should've been transient.
I sickened myself. For the first time in my life, I understood that it was possible to loathe the things a person did to you and love him more than anything else for those same reasons. I really did love him too, even if I wasn't always the best at showing it. I loved him in that pop song way that never ended-intense swings of emotions built on a foundation of crazy beats that made my head numb and the world seem distant. With Michael, I ignored my philosophy on relationships and dreamt in long-term colors.
Michael was like when I first learned to ride a bicycle. I would fall and fall, marring my skin with cuts and bruises, but I kept trying because when I did it right-when things were on-it was so fucking amazing. It was flying and wind pummeling my skin with air kisses and all smiles. A feeling like no other. And with Michael, I could finally grasp why my mother kept trying, kept holding onto shreds of faith that ardor and passion didn't expire once the right person came along, because I was doing the same thing.
I sounded pathetic and I was.
But I wasn't the only one.
For the record, Michael was as universal as a stop sign. He thought that he was so different from everyone else, not like the rest of the guys roaming the planet, but the truth was that his bullshit appeared to be a trait found in all males-human, alien, or whatever. He was highly proficient in keeping me at arm's length, never allowing me to help him, hug him, or be in the moment with him, and it drove me crazy. I wished that I affected him the way he did to me, that in my presence he felt so alive that he wished he were dead.but he made it quite clear on several occasions that he was a male and thus intimately impaired.
Like all girls with those types of boyfriends, I would tire of it. No screaming or ranting, but with a look of resignation that said, "I've had enough of this." And that's when he would do something that made me forget why I was mad. It was an inherent trait in men. As soon as the girl in their life was at the breaking point, they had the ability to suddenly become perfect and do things uncharacteristically sweet. I always fell for it, which, I guess, made me as universal as Michael was.
As I walked down the street with Michael, I berated myself for the romantic expectations I placed on our reunion because it wouldn't have been us. If Michael had thrown his arms around me, I had kissed him in front of everyone, or we had pretended like no time had passed since our last brief encounter-it would've been us acting out an alien Melrose Place rather than being the Michael/Maria couple I had missed.
These criticisms of my delusional expectations made it easier to somehow convince myself that the situation in McDonalds had been Michael and I being our emotionally retarded yet normal selves. He was abrasive, closed off, and unexpectedly endearing in the last few minutes and it was my job to take it from there.
"Maria, what the hell are you doing?" Michael asked.
I nearly ploughed down an older man dawdling along the block. I offered an unintelligible apology as I darted out of the way and stepped closer to Michael. I glanced at him, trying to make a joke out of the scenario, but he was too busy shaking his head and muttering under his breath. His obnoxious behavior served as a reminder of the negative and I almost failed to remember my plans to win him over with my charm and grace. Frankly, I was about ready to push him in front of a transit bus. I shrugged, "My mind's elsewhere."
"Well, get it back here. You can't be daydreaming right now."
I frowned, "I'm not stupid, Michael."
"I didn't say you were. I said that you needed to focus," he replied. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked his head as we stopped with a group of pedestrians to wait for the signal to walk.
I pointed at my face, serious and determined, and said, "In case you've forgotten, this is my attentive face. I'm alert and ready to roll."
He rolled his eyes, "So you meant to take out the guy with the walker back there?"
My hands fell on my hips and I glanced back, "There was no walker. I'd remember a walker." I grinned at him and added, "Maybe there was a cane, but I'm willing to bet that it was a gimmick rather than a necessity."
"Yeah. Right," he replied, his lips curving upwards in the faintest of smiles for a second before he regained his stoic composure. He stared at me for a minute, probably the longest direct eye contact we had maintained since our reunion at Sal's, and darted into the street ahead of everyone else.
I hurried up next to him, ignoring people's comments and honking horns. I asked, "What the hell is your problem, Michael?" He stopped walking abruptly and my cheek banged into his elbow. I groaned and I noticed his hands betray his demeanor and reach out to me. I pulled back though, why I don't know, and said, "I'm fine."
"Good."
"Great."
"Wonderful."
"Enough with the happy adjectives, Captain Redundant."
"Maria, you shouldn't be here," he stated for the millionth time that day. We had a history of Michael pushing me away while I stuck to him like a burr; but even I had my limits for feeling worthless in such a short period of time. He snorted out air like he was a dragon with sniffles and added, "It's too dangerous for you to be involved."
"If this is some bullshit about being a girl-"
"No, it's about you not getting hurt because Jesse's an idiot. He doesn't know what our lives are like and it's going to get him killed, which, you know, is not my problem, but he's dragging you down with him."
"And that's not your problem either."
"You're my problem," he replied. When his words seemed to ricochet back at him in the air, he smirked and added, "A big pain in the ass that never goes away."
I clutched my chest, attempting to maintain a false bravado, and retorted, "You're so witty, Michael. I'm surprised girls don't come a flocking with that sharp mind of yours."
He rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to fight with you, Maria. We've got more important things to do."
"I'm not going to fight with you either," I lied. There was more of a chance of Michael donning a bikini and performing the electric slide than the two of us avoiding any more fights.
Michael stood there as people passed by, mumbling obscenities at us for blocking the sidewalk, and stared at me. It was a look that either read like he wanted to kiss me or disembowel me with a spoon.knowing the two of us, it was probably a mixture of both. He folded his arms and said, "You wouldn't be my Maria if you didn't constantly aggravate me beyond belief.all I was trying to point out was that this isn't the time to work out your misplaced guilt."
"What?" I replied. His theories and anger were waylaid by the use of "my Maria" on repeat play in my head. Damn him. I was trying to maintain a modicum of detachment at the moment, a requirement for getting through Operation Crazy Alien Abduction bazillion and two, but Michael was testing my will. I would not be swayed. I would not be swayed.
Fortunately, Michael continued talking and that easily remedied the situation.
"Guilt. You and Jesse have other lives now. You're happy and it's nagging at your conscience that you've got friends who'll never have that. You probably picture Liz or me in some loser life living off cans of beans and I bet you think that you can fix everything. It's making you act crazy and put yourself in harms way for nothing because we're fine. Liz's fine. I'm fine."
"It sounds like you've got it all figured out, Michael."
He removed his baseball cap from his head, revealing a short crop of nearly jet-black hair going in every direction, and wiped his forehead. (I was right. He really did look good with the short cut-not that I noticed such things in times of desperation and danger.) He waved the baseball cap in my face and ranted, "Why do I bother? It's not like you'll listen to me anyway. You never have before." He started to walk off again and stopped a few feet ahead of me. He turned around and said, "And so you know, you're still as obstinate as ever."
"I'm obstinate? Right, because you're so accommodating to views outside of your own."
"I'm realistic. There's a difference," he replied, kicking at a styrofoam cup littering the ground. He watched it sail out into the street as a gust of wind picked it up and carried it away from us. "You shouldn't be-"
"I swear to God, Michael. You're a broken record! If you finish that sentence one more time, I won't be held responsible for beating the crap out of you," I replied. I waited for him to say something aside from pointing out how far away he wished I was or to enlighten me as to what was running through that muddled mind of his. He didn't say anything though, just stared at me and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. I sighed and motioned down the block, "The others are probably in position by now. We need to get moving."
"Let me do this alone."
"No."
"Maria."
"I'm involved in this, Michael."
"You don't have to be. I can't believe you're letting Jesse suck you back into this shit."
I stopped and narrowed my gaze on him incredulously. I tried to pull a Superman and force my eyes to see through his impenetrable skull, but it was fruitless. Not even a superhero could breach the walls of Michael's brain. Was he really so thick as to believe that I was doing this out of loyalty to anyone other than him and Liz? Did he really think I was here because of Jesse? Did our time apart suddenly make me a stranger to him? I tensed the muscles in my forehead to keep any tears from falling. Our conversation was not the time for a loser breakdown. It was the time to kick his stupid, stubborn ass. I squeezed my fist into a tight ball and replied, "You're a moron, Michael."
"What?"
"You're a moron," I repeated slowly.
"Maria," his voice trailed off, sucked into the whirlpool of New York City noise. He leaned in close to me as if to reveal some great mystery of the world and went on, "I've been wondering when you and Jesse became such good friends."
I laughed bitterly, "Careful there, Mikey. People might mistake that tone for jealousy."
"I'm not jealous of Jesse," he snapped. He shook his head, "You know what? Let's get this over with. The sooner we get the key back in our hands and find the others, the sooner you can go back to your new life."
He didn't give me the chance to respond. He stormed off ahead of me down the street. I glanced upward as if I would find some guidance in the blackened sky and chewed on my bottom lip until I could taste a tinge of blood on my tongue. I forced my legs to move along the concrete as I contemplated which misery was more appealing: 1) the dullness of flying solo in a world without the people I loved and missing the comforting sound of motorcycle wheels as they landed on my driveway or 2) staying here as Michael continued to make it blatantly obvious that those words he said to me that morning-how there was no other girl for him-were merely a great goodbye and nothing more.
I caught up to Michael across the street from the dive motel they had been living in. Again I tried to picture his life there with the others, but it didn't seem real somehow. Whether it was that he was deserving of better or that I was so self-involved that the idea of him having an existence away from me was unfathomable, I didn't know. I hurried up to him and strained to see what he was scrutinizing.
Michael barricaded me against the wall with his arm and peaked around the corner. He studied the layout of the block while I stood there trying not to notice the fact that his arm was touching my stomach. I attempted to disregard the zigzag of heat that washed over me and watched how he took everything in. He had become the expert surveyor and I wondered how many times he'd been in this position before. It made me sad to think about and reinforced the dire circumstances of our situation-Liz was missing and someone aside from the government wanted the group dead.
He turned to me and said, "There's one guy in a car across from the building. Totally out of place and acting overly anxious. I'm guessing he's one of the guys that chased you."
"Okay," I replied. I tried to get my head into the correct mindset, but my thoughts were jumbled and distant. I knew that Liz needed me and that I owed it to her to think of someone other than myself. I had to maintain some semblance of control and if that meant pretending Michael's proximity didn't affect me, I would do it.
The bastard chose that minute to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me against him. The heat from seconds earlier was back in full strength and I hoped that my face wasn't bright red. I told myself it was Michael, just Michael, but it made the energy around us that much more acute. It felt so normal, so nice, to have that type of contact with him. I was aware of everything: the curve of muscles, the wind filtering through his clothes and inflating his chest size, and his smell, a scent that was distinctly his (not that in hours of sheer loserdom I ever tried to replicate it.well, once, but it went badly and therefore shouldn't count).
Michael was oblivious to any awkwardness in our closeness. If he noticed my flustered appearance, he didn't say anything. He watched as a few kids walked by and once they passed, he released his grip on me. He nodded down the block and said, "We need to get into position. It doesn't look like it's an ambush, so I think it's as safe as we're going to get." He narrowed his gaze on me and continued, "Stay close to me, okay? I don't want them to see you until we're ready."
I nodded and we hurried around the block until we were back in the alley I had become too familiar with earlier. He held out his hand for me to wait there while he made sure everything was clear before we went any further. He took my hand almost immediately and led me around to the back of the building by their room. We stood under the fire escape and my heart pounded as it hit me. The boxes were still on the ground and Jesse's imprint could be seen if a person knew to look for it. A man had tried to catch us and use us as bait. Now I was bait. I was putting myself in the line of fire.willingly.
The Maria the Brave facade was quickly caving in on me and I resorted to what I did best. "Nothing like the smell of urine lingering in the air to turn a girl on."
Michael stared at me like I had three heads. He said, "There doesn't seem to be anyone guarding the back and there's no one in any of the rooms around ours from what I can make out."
"Make out. Interesting choice of words. Trying to drop me a hint?" I joked. The minute it slipped out of my mouth, I wanted to run away. What was wrong with me? Sure, I was facing imminent peril at the hands of a not- quite-sure-yet, but the way I was handling things, my only option was going to be to have the villain put me out of my misery. Euthanasia with a twist- stupidnasia.
Michael's head practically spun around and he yanked me aside. He pressed me up against the wall and, for a minute, I actually thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he wagged his finger in my face like I was a five-year- old throwing a tantrum and said, "You're freaking out and you need to get a grip. You need to clear your head of whatever made you act like a lunatic and listen to me. If you can't do that, there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight even for a second."
I shook my head and took a deep breath. I replied with vehemence that I wasn't sure I believed, "I need to do this, Michael. I was trying to relieve some stress. It worked and I'm fine."
"You swear?" I nodded and he let me go. He moved back underneath the fire escape and stared up; peering at it like it was a great artistic masterpiece. He twisted his neck in my direction and said, "It's as I suspected. The entire area's empty."
"And that upsets you?"
"It worries me. We're either dealing with stupid amateurs or we're walking into a set up. Either way it could end badly."
"You're a real comfort, Michael."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked without a trace of the venom from earlier evident in his tone.
"I'm fine."
"I'm going to climb up the fire escape. Once I'm set up outside our room, I want you to walk around the block. Make sure they notice you, but don't be too damn obvious that they know it's a set-up."
"Got it."
"The others should be in position by now and you know what to do."
"Yes," I replied, nodding for emphasis.
Michael glanced at me for a minute as he lowered the ladder down as quietly as he could. He reached his arms up to get his balance as the wind rattled the ladder and climbed a few steps before turning to face me. He said, "Keep your eyes open and trust your gut. If anything seems strange-" he paused when he met the dubious look on my face and corrected, "Stranger than the usual or if one of those guys tries to take you anywhere aside from inside the hotel, you do whatever you have to do to get control of the situation. Scream, cry, run-I don't care."
"Yeah, that won't attract attention."
"My main concern won't be discretion if you're in trouble. I'm serious here, Maria. Promise me."
I made the sign of the cross on my chest and smiled reassuringly, "I promise to do whatever the situation requires."
He nodded and went back to climbing the stairs. He crept across the level area, crunching noises from the shards of glass echoing in the air, and positioned himself by the bathroom window. He waved his hand down to me in an all-clear motion and I broke into a hurried walk until I was out of the alleyway. I had seen enough cartoons in my day to know that any and all bad things happened in alleyways.
I took a second to regain my composure and process Michael's instructions. There was no way that I would create some huge scene if those men tried to force the situation in their favor. The last thing my friends needed was even more attention drawn to them. Michael was too self-sacrificing at times and it was my job to protect him from himself. I tried to consider my options as I turned the corner and walked briskly toward the entrance of the place-of course, this wasn't something I was highly equipped to do.
I took the stairs two at a time and walked over to the desk attendant. I knocked on the plexi-glass that separated me from the unsavory greaseball that I had talked to earlier that day. I smiled as he removed his attention from the small television and he stood up.
"I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was here earlier and-"
"I never forget a pretty face," he replied. He looked me up and down which made me want to gag and said, "You lost your boyfriend. That happens a lot around these parts."
I leaned against the counter and smiled, "He was never my boyfriend, merely a means to an end." I pushed my hair back off my face and added, "I'm so flighty sometimes and the room you let us into, well, I forgot my bag up there and it has everything I own in it. Is there any chance you could let me back up there? I swear I'll only be a second, not even that.a nanosecond."
"It probably isn't there. Two men went in after you and your friend."
"Right. We bumped into them in the hall. Not the friendliest of folks, if you don't mind me saying so."
"A girl like you shouldn't be wandering around a place like this alone," the greaseball stated as he removed a keychain from a nail and slid it through the opening in the glass to me. He winked, "Don't forget to say goodbye this time, sweetheart."
I nodded, trying to hide the fact the skeevy pervert managed to give me goosebumps, and picked up the key. I smiled appreciatively and once I was out of his line of vision, I shuddered. I refused to let my paranoia get the better of me and study every face in the place. It would be too suspicious and I needed to seem like I was simply returning for the key.
I started up the stairs when someone's hand latched onto my arm. I was yanked against a chest, unable to turn around, and a deep voice said, "You shouldn't have left this afternoon without introducing yourself to us, doll. She warned us you'd be back though."
"She?"
"All in good time, dollface."
I rolled my eyes. Was there some sort of dumb villain handbook that mentioned the importance of cheesy openers? I glanced over my shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of the guy to jumpstart my memory and figure out where I had seen him before, but I couldn't get a look at his face. I did see Max loitering by the door though. He nodded to me that everything was okay.
I tried to walk up the stairs, but the man's arm swiftly pulled me back to him. He dangled a knife in my face and said, "Don't."
"Are we going to stand in the stairwell all night?"
"We'll move when I'm ready to move, babycakes," he said. After another second, he added, "Don't force me to use this on you."
"Let me guess. You'd hate to mar a beautiful face like mine."
He chuckled, "You're mighty brave. She mentioned you lacked common sense." Again with the she. Who the hell was this mysterious she that knew so much about me? He motioned the knife up the stairwell and said, "Don't try anything funny."
I didn't say anything. I walked up the stairs slowly and didn't stop until I was at the door to the room. The guy pointed the knife at my chest before reaching over and grabbing the key to the room from my hand. He unlocked the door with the knife still fixed on me. He kicked the door open and pushed me inside, allowing it to slam shut behind him. I landed on the bed with a thud and stared up at my captor, trying to place him. The scar was quite distinctive and the only small patches of hair he had on his head were slicked back. There was a small tattoo on the side of his neck with a strange symbol on it. I had seen him before. I know I had, but where? That was the question of the day.
He caught me studying him and lifted the hood of his jacket. He pointed the knife at me and he questioned, "Where is it?"
"The deodorizer? I don't know, but I wish I did. It stinks in here."
"This ain't no comedy club, toots. My boss isn't a very patient man. If you don't help me out, I'll be forced to get him involved. You don't want that."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The Morlagola Key. It was supposed to be on the girl. We know that her twin gave it to her."
I could only assume he was talking about Lonnie and Isabel. I replied, "Look, I don't know anything about a Morgwhosit key."
"Then why were you in this room and why did you run?"
"I'm sorry, but would you stick around a room that you weren't supposed to be in? My friend and I were looking for some people and you showed up instead. We thought maybe we had the wrong room and got scared. Is that a crime?"
"You're lying to me. The key was here and now it's not," he replied.
"If you tell me more about it maybe I can help you figure it out. I did know the inhabitants of this room. I know how they think."
The guy looked unsure. He paced the room and muttered to himself under his breath. My eyes shifted to the window. I didn't see Michael and I panicked. What if the other one had grabbed him while I was stuck with this one? Where had the second guy gone? The guy quickly spun on his heels and hovered over the bed, "The key.unlocks all the power.she has the amulet, but she needs the key and the other piece. It could destroy her otherwise."
"What amulet?"
"No, no way, that's not important. Where's the key?"
"Maybe they destroyed it. If it's as powerful as you make it sound, maybe they didn't want anything to do with it."
He shook his head, "No. It can't be destroyed. It's not of this earth. The Morlagola made it to withstand the greatest annihilation. It serves the greater purpose."
"Controlling the world?"
"World?" he scoffed and said, "Little girl, you need to give me the key. Your friends don't know how to control it. When they unleashed its power, they sent out a beacon to every galaxy. My boss wants to take it off their hands. We get the key and we let your friends go."
"Are you saying that you're an alien?"
He laughed callously. "I ask the questions here. You need to tell me what you know." He moved closer, holding the blade against my neck. He said, "If you really don't know, you're useless and I'll slit your throat right now. She didn't say I couldn't have some fun with you. I'd probably be doing her a service."
"Who is this person you're talking about? Why would she want me dead?"
"I'm not here to help you figure things out. You're here to give me the fucking key!"
I shut my eyes and replied, "For the last time, I came back here to get my bag."
The next few seconds were a blur. I felt the metal pinch into my skin and the trickle of blood down my neck. I silently debated with telling him what I knew, but it wouldn't matter. My gut was telling me that I would end up in this position no matter what I said and if his partner really did catch Michael, then there was no reason to fight back. I swallowed hard, figuring the end was near, half-expecting to see the white light, when a loud explosion sounded and the door burst open. Arms shook me and I opened my eyes to see Jesse staring at me frantically.
"What happened?" I croaked out. No one heard me over the chaos in the room. I heard Michael and Max talking in thunderous tones while Kyle coughed and tried to open the window. I regained some strength in my voice and shouted, "Where is he?"
"Are you okay?" Jesse asked. When I didn't reply right away, he shook me lightly, "Maria?"
I blinked a few times, trying to ignore the heinous smell permeating the room, and tried to figure out what happened. I forced a smile in Jesse's general direction and managed to reply, "Nice timing."
"We got held up."
"What happened? Did you get the sudden urge to read the paper?"
"No, Maria, we actually got held up. A crack junkie living on the next floor took my wallet," Jesse replied with a worried grin. He glanced around and called out, "I need a towel for her neck."
The words had barely escaped from his mouth when Michael appeared with a towel that was supposed to be white, but more closely resembled decaying meat. Relief washed over me as my eyes set on Michael's familiar form. The other guy hadn't killed him after all.
Where the hell was he while I was getting my neck sliced open? Did the moron decide now was the most opportune time to buy a bottle of Snapple?
Michael knelt in front of me and held the damp towel over my neck. He stared at me and I winced as he applied pressure with his hand. He said, "He only nicked you with the knife. You'll be okay."
"I'm not worried about the cut. God knows what unstoppable bacteria have been incubating on that towel.and now it's on me," I said. I smiled carelessly, allowing my fingers to briefly run over his hand, and replied, "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer at first.
"Michael," I prompted.
He stared at me with this unreadable and intense gaze that made my legs go numb with overcharged energy. He pulled his hand away from my neck and said, "I'd be better if I hadn't blown up our only lead."
"What?"
"I couldn't get to you quick enough so I had to use my powers on him," Michael replied.
"What about the other one?"
"I didn't see anyone else, Maria. Are the two of you sure there were two of them originally?"
"Yes. I'm not completely mental," I snapped. My head hurt like hell, what I could only imagine it would feel like to be the nail that caught the horseshoes during a game. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. My arms were covered in goosebumps and I tried to play it off to what had happened only moments ago. It was a normal reaction. I should've been scared. But I couldn't ignore the lingering sensation that this was only the beginning. I said, "What if he knew it was a trap? What if he's biding his time somewhere?"
I stood up and looked at the others who were hovering around the night table. Max placed his hand on the wall, changing the form of the molecules until they separated and revealed a hole. He pulled out a long gold chain with a large key at the bottom. It looked like something a rapper or pimp would wear on a night out on the town.
"That's what I nearly got stabbed for?"
"Yes," Max answered. He dangled it in front of him before placing it on the bedspread while he resealed the hole in the wall. I found myself drawn to the odd shape of the key. It didn't look like a normal key, actually quite different in form and color, but it looked familiar. It felt like des ja vu-I was sure I had seen it before.
The whole situation was more than freaking me out. I'd seen some strange things in the past few years thanks to the Czechoslovakians, but this was beyond all of that. This filled me with dread. I didn't say anything. I didn't know why I was afraid to share my trepidations with the group, but I was.
Instead I opted for my normal sarcasm. "That's the most garish looking thing I've ever seen."
Michael placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me into a seat at the table. He chucked the towel at my face and ordered, "Keep the towel there for another minute."
"I just-that gaudy monstrosity is filled with great power? What does it do? Blind people with its ugliness?" I turned to Jesse who was seated next to me and added, "Those Morlagolas made it indestructible but couldn't take the extra few minutes to make it pretty?"
Jesse laughed and slid a bottle of water across the table. He said, "For you."
I picked it up, not realizing how thirsty I was until the first drop of water landed on my tongue, and gulped down half the bottle. I wiped the excess water from my lips and said, "You're a godsend, Jesse the Jackass."
"The nickname stuck, I see."
"I only mock the ones I love."
"That's a lie. She mocks everyone," Kyle said.
"Shush," I said, swatting him away. As he joined Max and Michael, I added, "I was trying to make him feel special."
"I don't think I've ever been so flattered in my life," Jesse responded. He watched as Max, Michael, and Kyle inspected the key, talking in hushed whispers. He leaned over to me and asked, "Did the guy mention anything about Isabel?"
"Not really. He was too busy blathering on about death and destruction. Nothing makes people chatty quite like ominous evil."
"This key is evil?"
I shrugged, "He mentioned something about not being able to understand its power." I jumped out of my chair when a fluorescent light shot across the room. A few smaller flashes lit up the room and I followed the direction, straight to Michael.
"You put it on."
"I told him not to," Max replied.
"Michael!"
"Maria, I was trying to keep it safe."
"And your pocket wouldn't work? Take it off," I said, reaching out to remove the thing from around his neck. From what the guy had said before Michael vaporized him, I didn't think it was a good idea for him to be wearing it. My mind filled with images of the key sucking out Michael's soul. Michael smacked my hand away and I repeated, "Take it off, Michael."
"I can't."
"I've got a bag. You can put it-"
"No, I literally can't. The damn thing won't come off."
I looked down at the chain, which was glowing neon green and the key itself was bright red with colors swirling around its center. I turned to Max and said, "That can't be good."
"I'd have to agree with you. Mr. Impatience once again rushes into stupidity," Max replied.
I stood on my tiptoes and smacked the back of his head, "Idiot."
"How was I supposed to know?"
"You're unleashing beacons into the universe, Michael," I said. I noticed everyone looking at me like I was crazy and shrugged. I covered my face with my hands, hoping for a simple answer, and said, "I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I got the distinct impression from evil dude number one that it wasn't a good thing."
"What else did the guy say to you before he became alien ash?" Kyle asked.
I attempted to touch the key again, but Michael pushed my hand away and shot me a warning look. I growled and answered Kyle, "It's called the Morlagola Key. It works with an amulet. Apparently whoever that freak was working for needs it to use the amulet-otherwise it can destroy her."
"Her?"
"Lonnie," Kyle guessed.
"Why would she kidnap Isabel and Liz to get something she already had possession of, boys?" I asked.
"Who knows why that girl does anything? If she's involved, I'll put an end to it," Max stated.
"I don't think it's her," I replied.
The guys ignored me and continued to talk out their next move. I didn't pick up most of it. Too busy studying the small cramped quarters, looking for clues, though I had no idea what would constitute a good lead.
When I turned my attention back to their conversation, Max whispered something to his two flunkies, who nodded in agreement.
Michael piped in, "We've got the upper hand."
"Says the man lit up like a float in the Disney Electric Parade," I muttered.
Jesse glared at him and said, "Let's not forget that they've still got Isabel and Liz held hostage."
Michael spun around and stared down Jesse. If it were possible, I had a feeling Michael would've melted Jesse with his retinas. He said, "Did I ask for your opinion? I mean, what are you doing here anyway? Don't you have a law firm to get back to?"
"Isabel is my wife."
"Nice of you to remember that after eighteen months of not being concerned."
"Michael, that's not fair," I interrupted.
Michael shrugged, "Whatever. I guess you have to stick up for him."
"That's ENOUGH, Michael," Max said in his not-another-peep voice.
"What do we do now?" Kyle asked. He glanced at each of our faces and added, "Jesse has a point. They've still got Liz and Isabel and we're no closer to finding them than we were earlier."
"We wait. If Maria's right and there were two of them, then someone should be coming for this key again real soon," Michael answered.
"Except it's stuck to your freaking skin," I replied.
"So?"
"So? Did he say 'so'?" I replied. I tried to keep myself cool and collected. What we all needed at the moment was a level head, but that was like asking Ozzy Osbourne to give up cursing. I curled my hand into a fist to keep from smacking him and said, "Michael, you don't know what this key can do. What if it kills you? Did you think of that?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
"There's got to be someplace to get information on this thing."
Michael folded his arms, "Like where? The alien research library?"
I rolled my eyes and responded dryly, "I was going to say find his accomplice, but your idea might work."
Max rubbed his temples and said, "Maria, you have to tell us everything the guy said to you."
"I basically did. Key.needs amulet.can't be destroyed.he didn't say if he was an alien."
"He wasn't," Michael replied.
"Maria, you got a better look at him this time though, right?" Jesse spoke up. He came around and said, "Earlier you said the guy looked familiar. Do you remember him now?"
"I can't place him."
"Think Maria," Max replied. He stared at me and said, "We need something to go on, a way to track down his partner. If we find his partner, I think we'll find Isabel and Liz, but we don't have much time. I can feel her growing more and more distant from me. The both of them. My connections with them are weakening."
"No pressure there," I replied. I wracked my brain for any memory of the man, but the only thing that kept playing in my head was the knife against my throat. I instinctively clutched at my throat and turned away from everyone.
Michael's voice filtered through my head, "Give us a minute."
There was a shuffle of footsteps as everyone crossed the room and exited the door. Michael put his finger on my chin and lifted my face to look at him. I thought that I must be dying because Michael was being sweet. I tried to prepare myself for this moment, having waited for it our entire on again/off again relationship, but it didn't matter. He said, "I told you not to come."
It snapped me out of my little funk and I replied, "Are you for real?"
"What?"
"No, I really want to know. I nearly get my head severed off and you're going to play the I-told-you-so game with me?"
"Well, you shouldn't have come. He was our one lead and he's dead now."
"Because you blew him up."
"What was I supposed to do? Let him kill you?" Michael hollered. He slammed his fists on the table and knocked the remainder of my water onto the floor. I could hear him letting out sharp, ragged breaths and he said, "I was happy when you decided not to come with us, Maria."
The words pierced through me. I'd never been shot in my life, but I was pretty sure that a bullet felt quite similar to the ache coursing through my body. His words dug into my flesh and every nerve in my body was on alert, well aware of what had occurred. I fell into the chair and said, "Oh."
Michael didn't look at me. He cleared his throat and he muttered, "It wasn't how-"
I cut him off when I noticed the key. It had risen off his chest and was pointing past me, outside the window, glowing a violet color. I pointed and said, "What the hell?"
"You know I'm not good with words and that came out-"
"Moron, look down at the key," I ordered as I jumped out of the chair. I was going on pure adrenaline, thankful for any distraction from the severity of Michael's words. Until that moment, I was able to allow myself to believe that he and I could have a happy ending. I was sure that once we got Isabel and Liz back, he would insist I stay with them-stay with him. Who knew that one sentence could destroy all those hopes in the span of a few seconds?
But there wasn't time to worry about that while Michael resembled an Oompa Loompa suffering from radiation poisoning.
"Michael, you're blue."
"What?"
"Your skin is blue," I stated as calmly as I could muster. I hurried to the door, practically swung it off its hinges, and shouted, "Max, we've got a problem."
The three of them rushed into the room and their mouths gaped open at the sight of Michael. Kyle asked, "Why does Michael resemble a dance floor at a gay bar?" He met our curious gazes and added, "Not that I've ever been to one. Read about it in books."
"Michael, do you feel okay?" Max asked, approaching him cautiously. Max placed himself between Michael and me as if he expected Michael to excrete whatever was causing this situation.
Michael said, "Aside from the fact that I'm a freaking smurf?"
"Can you explain what was happening right before-"
"We were fighting, then the key levitated and pointed out the window. Next thing I knew Michael was blue," I said and Michael nodded in agreement. I asked, "Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Has it affected your powers?" Max inquired.
"Not that I can tell, but I haven't tried to use them."
"Maybe it's the beacons. Maybe they've located you."
Michael glared at me, "You're a real picker-upper, Maria. It's what I love about you."
I rolled my eyes, "Says the moron who decided to play dress up with an ancient amulet's link to god only knows what!"
Max held up his hand for quiet while Kyle muttered to Jesse, "Some things never change."
Max paced the room and said, "There has to be some explanation for this. What motive did Lonnie have for giving us this?"
"Do you think she attempted to use it and attracted unwanted attention to herself?"
"It's possible," Max replied. He glanced over at Michael who was leaning against the wall with a pained expression on his face. My eyes widened and I looked at Jesse and Kyle nervously, wondering if they saw the same thing or if I was hallucinating. I didn't think it could get stranger than seeing Michael turn blue, but I was beginning to think I spoke too soon. Max asked, "Are you okay?"
"Doesn't matter how many times you ask the question, Maxwell, the answer doesn't change."
"I'm only asking because you're floating."
"Come again?" Michael replied. He looked down at his feet and his face contorted in horror when he realized he was hovering about a foot off the ground.
I fell back into the chair and said, "If he starts spitting up pea soup, I'm outta here."
"You and Jesse should probably leave now, Maria," Max said.
"What?"
"No way. I'm not leaving until Isabel is safe," Jesse added.
Max shook his head, "I don't know what we're dealing with here, but neither of you have any powers to protect yourselves from Michael."
"I don't need protection from Michael," I stated.
"Maria, don't be stupid. We don't know what's going on here," Michael replied.
"Right. I know. And you never wanted to see me again," I said, finishing his train of thought for him. Suddenly, despite all the distractions in the world, all I could think about was the overwhelming despair I was feeling. I hated that I was allowing it to take hold of my brain and scolded myself for being so damn selfish. My best friend was in danger and we had no idea what was going on with Michael, but there I was, wishing I had never let Jesse talk me into this adventure or re-igniting the hope I felt whenever I was around Michael.
I should've known it was useless right from the start. Michael and I never changed. He would always be pulling away and I would always be left, clamoring to make sense of it all. There would always be danger and it would always be held over my head that I couldn't truly understand the impact of it all.
Because I wasn't like them and loving him wasn't enough to make that difference inconsequential.
I glanced at Michael, looking for any indication that I should stay, that he wanted me around, but his face was a blank canvas. I sighed and said, "Fine. You guys win."
"What?" both Michael and Jesse replied.
I turned to Jesse and said, "We're more harm than good right now. They can't concentrate on Liz and Isabel if they're worried about protecting us, Jesse."
"Maria."
I cut Jesse off, "Give Max your information and when they've got everything under control, Isabel can contact you if she wants. Either way--" I looked to Michael and finished, "We don't belong here."
"She's my wife."
"She's my sister, Jesse. I swear I won't let anything happen to her, but Maria's right. We don't know what we're dealing with."
"We can help."
"No, we can't," I said.
Jesse stared at me for a minute before shrugging in defeat. He pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and said, "Give this to her for me." He handed the card to Max and hurried out of the room without a second glance.
I stood still, listening to Jesse's footsteps as he rushed down the stairs echoing in the air, until the sound of a throat clearing pulled me out of myself. I walked over to Kyle and hugged him. I pulled at his crazy Afro and said, "Take care of yourself."
"I will. Be careful."
I nodded and turned to Max. I hugged him too and he said, "I suggest you go straight to the train station. You'll be safe once you get back to your life."
I bit my lip and said, "You find her, Max. Make sure she's okay and tell her how much I love her."
Max nodded and hugged me. He said, "I promise, Maria."
I faced Michael and stared at him for a minute. Neither of us said anything, even though I was willing him to say the words, to find the magic phrase that would get me to stay and help him. He raised his hand in a half-wave, "See ya."
I gritted my teeth together and mumbled, "Whatever."
I didn't look back-there was to be no more looking back-and I hurried out of the room, taking the steps two at a time. I exited the building, allowing the cold twilight air to sting my skin and act as the activation to the pent-up tears. I noticed Jesse standing on the corner, kicking at a fire hydrant, and walked around him without a second look.
I heard him yell my name, but I kept walking. The only clear thought I had was that I had to keep moving and get the hell outta New York. I quickened my step, when Jesse's voice got closer as if I could mentally outrun him.
I made it about ten blocks before Jesse's arm finally pulled me aside. Strangers on the street glanced at us like we were a typical lover's spat unfolding before the public's eye and I pushed him off me. I hissed, "Don't touch me." I rubbed my arms and said, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Jesse. I can't believe I let your stupid optimism wash off on me."
"We can't give up, Maria. The people we love need us right now."
"Enough with your pep talks. I don't care what you do. You want to tail the alien crew? Be my guest. But leave me out of it." I started to walk off down the block, unsure of where I was going. My emotions were in control and unfortunately they had little sense of direction. I glanced at the street sign and Jesse took that as the opportunity to fall in stride with me. I shot him a look and said, "You're a nuisance."
"They don't call me Jesse the Jackass for nothing."
I felt the start of a smile, but I pushed it down. I said, "My emotions can't keep-we're different from them, Jesse. You and I will never comprehend how hard it is to be an alien and they hate us for it."
"Liz hates you? Michael too?"
I laughed mirthlessly and stopped walking abruptly. I faced Jesse and said, "Let's face the truth, Jesse. There is a reason that neither of us went with the group the first time around."
"I wasn't invited."
"Which I might have believed a few weeks ago, but now that I know you, I get the strong feeling that no one could stop you from doing something you really wanted to do."
"Same goes for you."
"Exactly my point."
"Your point is nonexistent."
"Is not."
"You seemed to have misplaced it somewhere amidst your whining and pity party for one."
"Oh shut up," I started to walk again. I crossed the street and walked down the stairs to the subway station. I noticed Jesse was still riding my tail and I chucked a subway token at his head. His hand snapped up and caught it nonchalantly. He winked at me and I said, "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you're almost as annoying as Michael."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, sliding the token into the machine and walking through the subway gates.
I stood on the platform, pretending to get my bearings although it was pretty obvious I was winging it, and replied, "Then you're an idiot to boot."
Jesse stepped in front of me and said, "It wasn't supposed to end like this."
"This is exactly what was supposed to happen," I replied. I felt my lungs burning and my stomach lurching forward as my mind replayed the incident. I pushed back the tears and said, "Michael told me he never wanted me to come along in the first place. Isabel didn't either.and if we were both honest, we didn't want that anymore than either of them."
"Because we're different?" Jesse asked. When I nodded, he replied, "That's bullshit."
"Whatever."
"If you really believed that, none of them would've been in your life when I met you. How long were you and Michael together? And what about Liz? How long have the two of you been friends?"
"It's not that simple."
"Everything is that simple, Maria. Every single thing that happens can be broken down into a simple act, but it's us humans that make it difficult," Jesse replied. A loud horn sounded and the light from an approaching train could be heard. Jesse glanced at me and said, "But if you're willing to let Michael and Max push you away because you're all scared of how much you need one another, well--"
"Spare me the clichés. My head hurts enough already."
Jesse shrugged, "Maria, I'm a man of logic. It's how I make my living, and logically, they need us. We don't have targets on our backs. The fact that we aren't like them, that we're different, is what would make it easy for us to get close to whoever is responsible for everything."
The subway screeched to a halt and the bell sounded as the doors opened. I stood there, not moving, and the doors shut before me. Jesse smirked and I said, "I'm not sure I buy this theory of yours, but what are you suggesting here?"
"That guy told you about the key right? Any information that the guys have, we have too."
"So?"
Jesse grinned. He said, "Remember earlier you said that there had to be a place to get information on the key?"
"It was less than thirty minutes ago, Jesse. I'm crazy, not senile," I commented. I met his eerie grin and said, "I also recall that there's no place to get that type of data. I was grasping at straws."
"But maybe you weren't. Where's the alien capital of the world?"
I stared at him for a minute and he nodded as if he could read my mind. My mouth mimicked his goofy grin and we simultaneously said, "Roswell."
Author's Note: You can reach me at Storydivagirl@hotmail.com, beholden.nu/white, or livejournal, username=storydivagirl. What is that? Does there seem to be a plot taken over now? Could it be? Wow! Shout outs to my wonderous beta, Steph, and to all of you leaving comments. I love the feedback! Feedback is my friend!
PART FIVE - THE PLAN
Prior to meeting Michael and getting swept up in a series of maddening events that never seemed to end, I had a very strong grasp on love. Sure, I had moments of temporary insanity where I succumbed to the girly calling of romantic sentiment, but I knew what I wanted out of life and exactly how love was supposed to fit into said life.
I watched my mother's revolving door of hippie losers and guys that wasted away their days in Grateful Dead cover bands. My mother loved each one, convinced that every guy would finally repair the damages done to her by my father. The "one" lasted for a good three to four months before the only remnants of his existence was packed away in our garage with the green shag carpeting and outdated clothes. They became ugly reminders that when pulled out, people cringed and wondered what the hell they were thinking. That was what enduring love did to people. Overstaying welcomes, outlasting the initial attraction and hormones filling the air, was never bittersweet.just bitter.
When I was thirteen, one of her boyfriends, much braver than most who avoided me at all costs (I was the reminder of the accidents that they might have created in a drug-induced coma of the past) once told me, "The best loves are those that last only for a summer." A mentality like that sucked for my mother, but I couldn't help but think it was a beautiful sentiment. Love should only last as long as a leg waxing. If done properly, love was impractical and impulsive like the red dress beckoning to you from the shop window that was radiant on you for a few weeks before falling apart in the dryer.
When I shared this epiphany with my best friend, Liz rolled her eyes and told me, "You're too young to be so cynical, Maria."
I didn't see it that way. I thought it was an amazing idea. Long-lasting love, the type that Nora Ephron stressed, was something sought after by the same people that refused to throw away milk on the expiration date. They allowed it to curdle and spoil until a horrendous odor permeated through everything. No, that was too real for me. And I wagged my finger in Liz's face, replying, "Love should be like a movie trailer-all the best parts in a two minute span, Liz. Life's too short to tolerate anything else."
"I don't buy it for a second. One day some guy's going to come along and change that stupid attitude of yours. I hope I'm there to see it," she countered before getting back to wiping down the counters at the Crashdown. It was as if she placed a hex on me that made all my principles fly out the window whenever a boy named Michael Guerin glanced in my direction.
In fairness, didn't we all understand such topics as love and commitment when removed from the situation? If Michael had been played by one of my mother's loser boyfriends and my mother had stepped into the role of Maria, I would've clearly seen the writing on the wall. Michael had been dangerous. Not because of shape shifters and government agencies and whatever else, but because he got me to believe curdled milk was appealing. He shot me full of incurable hope in something that should've been transient.
I sickened myself. For the first time in my life, I understood that it was possible to loathe the things a person did to you and love him more than anything else for those same reasons. I really did love him too, even if I wasn't always the best at showing it. I loved him in that pop song way that never ended-intense swings of emotions built on a foundation of crazy beats that made my head numb and the world seem distant. With Michael, I ignored my philosophy on relationships and dreamt in long-term colors.
Michael was like when I first learned to ride a bicycle. I would fall and fall, marring my skin with cuts and bruises, but I kept trying because when I did it right-when things were on-it was so fucking amazing. It was flying and wind pummeling my skin with air kisses and all smiles. A feeling like no other. And with Michael, I could finally grasp why my mother kept trying, kept holding onto shreds of faith that ardor and passion didn't expire once the right person came along, because I was doing the same thing.
I sounded pathetic and I was.
But I wasn't the only one.
For the record, Michael was as universal as a stop sign. He thought that he was so different from everyone else, not like the rest of the guys roaming the planet, but the truth was that his bullshit appeared to be a trait found in all males-human, alien, or whatever. He was highly proficient in keeping me at arm's length, never allowing me to help him, hug him, or be in the moment with him, and it drove me crazy. I wished that I affected him the way he did to me, that in my presence he felt so alive that he wished he were dead.but he made it quite clear on several occasions that he was a male and thus intimately impaired.
Like all girls with those types of boyfriends, I would tire of it. No screaming or ranting, but with a look of resignation that said, "I've had enough of this." And that's when he would do something that made me forget why I was mad. It was an inherent trait in men. As soon as the girl in their life was at the breaking point, they had the ability to suddenly become perfect and do things uncharacteristically sweet. I always fell for it, which, I guess, made me as universal as Michael was.
As I walked down the street with Michael, I berated myself for the romantic expectations I placed on our reunion because it wouldn't have been us. If Michael had thrown his arms around me, I had kissed him in front of everyone, or we had pretended like no time had passed since our last brief encounter-it would've been us acting out an alien Melrose Place rather than being the Michael/Maria couple I had missed.
These criticisms of my delusional expectations made it easier to somehow convince myself that the situation in McDonalds had been Michael and I being our emotionally retarded yet normal selves. He was abrasive, closed off, and unexpectedly endearing in the last few minutes and it was my job to take it from there.
"Maria, what the hell are you doing?" Michael asked.
I nearly ploughed down an older man dawdling along the block. I offered an unintelligible apology as I darted out of the way and stepped closer to Michael. I glanced at him, trying to make a joke out of the scenario, but he was too busy shaking his head and muttering under his breath. His obnoxious behavior served as a reminder of the negative and I almost failed to remember my plans to win him over with my charm and grace. Frankly, I was about ready to push him in front of a transit bus. I shrugged, "My mind's elsewhere."
"Well, get it back here. You can't be daydreaming right now."
I frowned, "I'm not stupid, Michael."
"I didn't say you were. I said that you needed to focus," he replied. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked his head as we stopped with a group of pedestrians to wait for the signal to walk.
I pointed at my face, serious and determined, and said, "In case you've forgotten, this is my attentive face. I'm alert and ready to roll."
He rolled his eyes, "So you meant to take out the guy with the walker back there?"
My hands fell on my hips and I glanced back, "There was no walker. I'd remember a walker." I grinned at him and added, "Maybe there was a cane, but I'm willing to bet that it was a gimmick rather than a necessity."
"Yeah. Right," he replied, his lips curving upwards in the faintest of smiles for a second before he regained his stoic composure. He stared at me for a minute, probably the longest direct eye contact we had maintained since our reunion at Sal's, and darted into the street ahead of everyone else.
I hurried up next to him, ignoring people's comments and honking horns. I asked, "What the hell is your problem, Michael?" He stopped walking abruptly and my cheek banged into his elbow. I groaned and I noticed his hands betray his demeanor and reach out to me. I pulled back though, why I don't know, and said, "I'm fine."
"Good."
"Great."
"Wonderful."
"Enough with the happy adjectives, Captain Redundant."
"Maria, you shouldn't be here," he stated for the millionth time that day. We had a history of Michael pushing me away while I stuck to him like a burr; but even I had my limits for feeling worthless in such a short period of time. He snorted out air like he was a dragon with sniffles and added, "It's too dangerous for you to be involved."
"If this is some bullshit about being a girl-"
"No, it's about you not getting hurt because Jesse's an idiot. He doesn't know what our lives are like and it's going to get him killed, which, you know, is not my problem, but he's dragging you down with him."
"And that's not your problem either."
"You're my problem," he replied. When his words seemed to ricochet back at him in the air, he smirked and added, "A big pain in the ass that never goes away."
I clutched my chest, attempting to maintain a false bravado, and retorted, "You're so witty, Michael. I'm surprised girls don't come a flocking with that sharp mind of yours."
He rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to fight with you, Maria. We've got more important things to do."
"I'm not going to fight with you either," I lied. There was more of a chance of Michael donning a bikini and performing the electric slide than the two of us avoiding any more fights.
Michael stood there as people passed by, mumbling obscenities at us for blocking the sidewalk, and stared at me. It was a look that either read like he wanted to kiss me or disembowel me with a spoon.knowing the two of us, it was probably a mixture of both. He folded his arms and said, "You wouldn't be my Maria if you didn't constantly aggravate me beyond belief.all I was trying to point out was that this isn't the time to work out your misplaced guilt."
"What?" I replied. His theories and anger were waylaid by the use of "my Maria" on repeat play in my head. Damn him. I was trying to maintain a modicum of detachment at the moment, a requirement for getting through Operation Crazy Alien Abduction bazillion and two, but Michael was testing my will. I would not be swayed. I would not be swayed.
Fortunately, Michael continued talking and that easily remedied the situation.
"Guilt. You and Jesse have other lives now. You're happy and it's nagging at your conscience that you've got friends who'll never have that. You probably picture Liz or me in some loser life living off cans of beans and I bet you think that you can fix everything. It's making you act crazy and put yourself in harms way for nothing because we're fine. Liz's fine. I'm fine."
"It sounds like you've got it all figured out, Michael."
He removed his baseball cap from his head, revealing a short crop of nearly jet-black hair going in every direction, and wiped his forehead. (I was right. He really did look good with the short cut-not that I noticed such things in times of desperation and danger.) He waved the baseball cap in my face and ranted, "Why do I bother? It's not like you'll listen to me anyway. You never have before." He started to walk off again and stopped a few feet ahead of me. He turned around and said, "And so you know, you're still as obstinate as ever."
"I'm obstinate? Right, because you're so accommodating to views outside of your own."
"I'm realistic. There's a difference," he replied, kicking at a styrofoam cup littering the ground. He watched it sail out into the street as a gust of wind picked it up and carried it away from us. "You shouldn't be-"
"I swear to God, Michael. You're a broken record! If you finish that sentence one more time, I won't be held responsible for beating the crap out of you," I replied. I waited for him to say something aside from pointing out how far away he wished I was or to enlighten me as to what was running through that muddled mind of his. He didn't say anything though, just stared at me and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. I sighed and motioned down the block, "The others are probably in position by now. We need to get moving."
"Let me do this alone."
"No."
"Maria."
"I'm involved in this, Michael."
"You don't have to be. I can't believe you're letting Jesse suck you back into this shit."
I stopped and narrowed my gaze on him incredulously. I tried to pull a Superman and force my eyes to see through his impenetrable skull, but it was fruitless. Not even a superhero could breach the walls of Michael's brain. Was he really so thick as to believe that I was doing this out of loyalty to anyone other than him and Liz? Did he really think I was here because of Jesse? Did our time apart suddenly make me a stranger to him? I tensed the muscles in my forehead to keep any tears from falling. Our conversation was not the time for a loser breakdown. It was the time to kick his stupid, stubborn ass. I squeezed my fist into a tight ball and replied, "You're a moron, Michael."
"What?"
"You're a moron," I repeated slowly.
"Maria," his voice trailed off, sucked into the whirlpool of New York City noise. He leaned in close to me as if to reveal some great mystery of the world and went on, "I've been wondering when you and Jesse became such good friends."
I laughed bitterly, "Careful there, Mikey. People might mistake that tone for jealousy."
"I'm not jealous of Jesse," he snapped. He shook his head, "You know what? Let's get this over with. The sooner we get the key back in our hands and find the others, the sooner you can go back to your new life."
He didn't give me the chance to respond. He stormed off ahead of me down the street. I glanced upward as if I would find some guidance in the blackened sky and chewed on my bottom lip until I could taste a tinge of blood on my tongue. I forced my legs to move along the concrete as I contemplated which misery was more appealing: 1) the dullness of flying solo in a world without the people I loved and missing the comforting sound of motorcycle wheels as they landed on my driveway or 2) staying here as Michael continued to make it blatantly obvious that those words he said to me that morning-how there was no other girl for him-were merely a great goodbye and nothing more.
I caught up to Michael across the street from the dive motel they had been living in. Again I tried to picture his life there with the others, but it didn't seem real somehow. Whether it was that he was deserving of better or that I was so self-involved that the idea of him having an existence away from me was unfathomable, I didn't know. I hurried up to him and strained to see what he was scrutinizing.
Michael barricaded me against the wall with his arm and peaked around the corner. He studied the layout of the block while I stood there trying not to notice the fact that his arm was touching my stomach. I attempted to disregard the zigzag of heat that washed over me and watched how he took everything in. He had become the expert surveyor and I wondered how many times he'd been in this position before. It made me sad to think about and reinforced the dire circumstances of our situation-Liz was missing and someone aside from the government wanted the group dead.
He turned to me and said, "There's one guy in a car across from the building. Totally out of place and acting overly anxious. I'm guessing he's one of the guys that chased you."
"Okay," I replied. I tried to get my head into the correct mindset, but my thoughts were jumbled and distant. I knew that Liz needed me and that I owed it to her to think of someone other than myself. I had to maintain some semblance of control and if that meant pretending Michael's proximity didn't affect me, I would do it.
The bastard chose that minute to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me against him. The heat from seconds earlier was back in full strength and I hoped that my face wasn't bright red. I told myself it was Michael, just Michael, but it made the energy around us that much more acute. It felt so normal, so nice, to have that type of contact with him. I was aware of everything: the curve of muscles, the wind filtering through his clothes and inflating his chest size, and his smell, a scent that was distinctly his (not that in hours of sheer loserdom I ever tried to replicate it.well, once, but it went badly and therefore shouldn't count).
Michael was oblivious to any awkwardness in our closeness. If he noticed my flustered appearance, he didn't say anything. He watched as a few kids walked by and once they passed, he released his grip on me. He nodded down the block and said, "We need to get into position. It doesn't look like it's an ambush, so I think it's as safe as we're going to get." He narrowed his gaze on me and continued, "Stay close to me, okay? I don't want them to see you until we're ready."
I nodded and we hurried around the block until we were back in the alley I had become too familiar with earlier. He held out his hand for me to wait there while he made sure everything was clear before we went any further. He took my hand almost immediately and led me around to the back of the building by their room. We stood under the fire escape and my heart pounded as it hit me. The boxes were still on the ground and Jesse's imprint could be seen if a person knew to look for it. A man had tried to catch us and use us as bait. Now I was bait. I was putting myself in the line of fire.willingly.
The Maria the Brave facade was quickly caving in on me and I resorted to what I did best. "Nothing like the smell of urine lingering in the air to turn a girl on."
Michael stared at me like I had three heads. He said, "There doesn't seem to be anyone guarding the back and there's no one in any of the rooms around ours from what I can make out."
"Make out. Interesting choice of words. Trying to drop me a hint?" I joked. The minute it slipped out of my mouth, I wanted to run away. What was wrong with me? Sure, I was facing imminent peril at the hands of a not- quite-sure-yet, but the way I was handling things, my only option was going to be to have the villain put me out of my misery. Euthanasia with a twist- stupidnasia.
Michael's head practically spun around and he yanked me aside. He pressed me up against the wall and, for a minute, I actually thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he wagged his finger in my face like I was a five-year- old throwing a tantrum and said, "You're freaking out and you need to get a grip. You need to clear your head of whatever made you act like a lunatic and listen to me. If you can't do that, there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight even for a second."
I shook my head and took a deep breath. I replied with vehemence that I wasn't sure I believed, "I need to do this, Michael. I was trying to relieve some stress. It worked and I'm fine."
"You swear?" I nodded and he let me go. He moved back underneath the fire escape and stared up; peering at it like it was a great artistic masterpiece. He twisted his neck in my direction and said, "It's as I suspected. The entire area's empty."
"And that upsets you?"
"It worries me. We're either dealing with stupid amateurs or we're walking into a set up. Either way it could end badly."
"You're a real comfort, Michael."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked without a trace of the venom from earlier evident in his tone.
"I'm fine."
"I'm going to climb up the fire escape. Once I'm set up outside our room, I want you to walk around the block. Make sure they notice you, but don't be too damn obvious that they know it's a set-up."
"Got it."
"The others should be in position by now and you know what to do."
"Yes," I replied, nodding for emphasis.
Michael glanced at me for a minute as he lowered the ladder down as quietly as he could. He reached his arms up to get his balance as the wind rattled the ladder and climbed a few steps before turning to face me. He said, "Keep your eyes open and trust your gut. If anything seems strange-" he paused when he met the dubious look on my face and corrected, "Stranger than the usual or if one of those guys tries to take you anywhere aside from inside the hotel, you do whatever you have to do to get control of the situation. Scream, cry, run-I don't care."
"Yeah, that won't attract attention."
"My main concern won't be discretion if you're in trouble. I'm serious here, Maria. Promise me."
I made the sign of the cross on my chest and smiled reassuringly, "I promise to do whatever the situation requires."
He nodded and went back to climbing the stairs. He crept across the level area, crunching noises from the shards of glass echoing in the air, and positioned himself by the bathroom window. He waved his hand down to me in an all-clear motion and I broke into a hurried walk until I was out of the alleyway. I had seen enough cartoons in my day to know that any and all bad things happened in alleyways.
I took a second to regain my composure and process Michael's instructions. There was no way that I would create some huge scene if those men tried to force the situation in their favor. The last thing my friends needed was even more attention drawn to them. Michael was too self-sacrificing at times and it was my job to protect him from himself. I tried to consider my options as I turned the corner and walked briskly toward the entrance of the place-of course, this wasn't something I was highly equipped to do.
I took the stairs two at a time and walked over to the desk attendant. I knocked on the plexi-glass that separated me from the unsavory greaseball that I had talked to earlier that day. I smiled as he removed his attention from the small television and he stood up.
"I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was here earlier and-"
"I never forget a pretty face," he replied. He looked me up and down which made me want to gag and said, "You lost your boyfriend. That happens a lot around these parts."
I leaned against the counter and smiled, "He was never my boyfriend, merely a means to an end." I pushed my hair back off my face and added, "I'm so flighty sometimes and the room you let us into, well, I forgot my bag up there and it has everything I own in it. Is there any chance you could let me back up there? I swear I'll only be a second, not even that.a nanosecond."
"It probably isn't there. Two men went in after you and your friend."
"Right. We bumped into them in the hall. Not the friendliest of folks, if you don't mind me saying so."
"A girl like you shouldn't be wandering around a place like this alone," the greaseball stated as he removed a keychain from a nail and slid it through the opening in the glass to me. He winked, "Don't forget to say goodbye this time, sweetheart."
I nodded, trying to hide the fact the skeevy pervert managed to give me goosebumps, and picked up the key. I smiled appreciatively and once I was out of his line of vision, I shuddered. I refused to let my paranoia get the better of me and study every face in the place. It would be too suspicious and I needed to seem like I was simply returning for the key.
I started up the stairs when someone's hand latched onto my arm. I was yanked against a chest, unable to turn around, and a deep voice said, "You shouldn't have left this afternoon without introducing yourself to us, doll. She warned us you'd be back though."
"She?"
"All in good time, dollface."
I rolled my eyes. Was there some sort of dumb villain handbook that mentioned the importance of cheesy openers? I glanced over my shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of the guy to jumpstart my memory and figure out where I had seen him before, but I couldn't get a look at his face. I did see Max loitering by the door though. He nodded to me that everything was okay.
I tried to walk up the stairs, but the man's arm swiftly pulled me back to him. He dangled a knife in my face and said, "Don't."
"Are we going to stand in the stairwell all night?"
"We'll move when I'm ready to move, babycakes," he said. After another second, he added, "Don't force me to use this on you."
"Let me guess. You'd hate to mar a beautiful face like mine."
He chuckled, "You're mighty brave. She mentioned you lacked common sense." Again with the she. Who the hell was this mysterious she that knew so much about me? He motioned the knife up the stairwell and said, "Don't try anything funny."
I didn't say anything. I walked up the stairs slowly and didn't stop until I was at the door to the room. The guy pointed the knife at my chest before reaching over and grabbing the key to the room from my hand. He unlocked the door with the knife still fixed on me. He kicked the door open and pushed me inside, allowing it to slam shut behind him. I landed on the bed with a thud and stared up at my captor, trying to place him. The scar was quite distinctive and the only small patches of hair he had on his head were slicked back. There was a small tattoo on the side of his neck with a strange symbol on it. I had seen him before. I know I had, but where? That was the question of the day.
He caught me studying him and lifted the hood of his jacket. He pointed the knife at me and he questioned, "Where is it?"
"The deodorizer? I don't know, but I wish I did. It stinks in here."
"This ain't no comedy club, toots. My boss isn't a very patient man. If you don't help me out, I'll be forced to get him involved. You don't want that."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The Morlagola Key. It was supposed to be on the girl. We know that her twin gave it to her."
I could only assume he was talking about Lonnie and Isabel. I replied, "Look, I don't know anything about a Morgwhosit key."
"Then why were you in this room and why did you run?"
"I'm sorry, but would you stick around a room that you weren't supposed to be in? My friend and I were looking for some people and you showed up instead. We thought maybe we had the wrong room and got scared. Is that a crime?"
"You're lying to me. The key was here and now it's not," he replied.
"If you tell me more about it maybe I can help you figure it out. I did know the inhabitants of this room. I know how they think."
The guy looked unsure. He paced the room and muttered to himself under his breath. My eyes shifted to the window. I didn't see Michael and I panicked. What if the other one had grabbed him while I was stuck with this one? Where had the second guy gone? The guy quickly spun on his heels and hovered over the bed, "The key.unlocks all the power.she has the amulet, but she needs the key and the other piece. It could destroy her otherwise."
"What amulet?"
"No, no way, that's not important. Where's the key?"
"Maybe they destroyed it. If it's as powerful as you make it sound, maybe they didn't want anything to do with it."
He shook his head, "No. It can't be destroyed. It's not of this earth. The Morlagola made it to withstand the greatest annihilation. It serves the greater purpose."
"Controlling the world?"
"World?" he scoffed and said, "Little girl, you need to give me the key. Your friends don't know how to control it. When they unleashed its power, they sent out a beacon to every galaxy. My boss wants to take it off their hands. We get the key and we let your friends go."
"Are you saying that you're an alien?"
He laughed callously. "I ask the questions here. You need to tell me what you know." He moved closer, holding the blade against my neck. He said, "If you really don't know, you're useless and I'll slit your throat right now. She didn't say I couldn't have some fun with you. I'd probably be doing her a service."
"Who is this person you're talking about? Why would she want me dead?"
"I'm not here to help you figure things out. You're here to give me the fucking key!"
I shut my eyes and replied, "For the last time, I came back here to get my bag."
The next few seconds were a blur. I felt the metal pinch into my skin and the trickle of blood down my neck. I silently debated with telling him what I knew, but it wouldn't matter. My gut was telling me that I would end up in this position no matter what I said and if his partner really did catch Michael, then there was no reason to fight back. I swallowed hard, figuring the end was near, half-expecting to see the white light, when a loud explosion sounded and the door burst open. Arms shook me and I opened my eyes to see Jesse staring at me frantically.
"What happened?" I croaked out. No one heard me over the chaos in the room. I heard Michael and Max talking in thunderous tones while Kyle coughed and tried to open the window. I regained some strength in my voice and shouted, "Where is he?"
"Are you okay?" Jesse asked. When I didn't reply right away, he shook me lightly, "Maria?"
I blinked a few times, trying to ignore the heinous smell permeating the room, and tried to figure out what happened. I forced a smile in Jesse's general direction and managed to reply, "Nice timing."
"We got held up."
"What happened? Did you get the sudden urge to read the paper?"
"No, Maria, we actually got held up. A crack junkie living on the next floor took my wallet," Jesse replied with a worried grin. He glanced around and called out, "I need a towel for her neck."
The words had barely escaped from his mouth when Michael appeared with a towel that was supposed to be white, but more closely resembled decaying meat. Relief washed over me as my eyes set on Michael's familiar form. The other guy hadn't killed him after all.
Where the hell was he while I was getting my neck sliced open? Did the moron decide now was the most opportune time to buy a bottle of Snapple?
Michael knelt in front of me and held the damp towel over my neck. He stared at me and I winced as he applied pressure with his hand. He said, "He only nicked you with the knife. You'll be okay."
"I'm not worried about the cut. God knows what unstoppable bacteria have been incubating on that towel.and now it's on me," I said. I smiled carelessly, allowing my fingers to briefly run over his hand, and replied, "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer at first.
"Michael," I prompted.
He stared at me with this unreadable and intense gaze that made my legs go numb with overcharged energy. He pulled his hand away from my neck and said, "I'd be better if I hadn't blown up our only lead."
"What?"
"I couldn't get to you quick enough so I had to use my powers on him," Michael replied.
"What about the other one?"
"I didn't see anyone else, Maria. Are the two of you sure there were two of them originally?"
"Yes. I'm not completely mental," I snapped. My head hurt like hell, what I could only imagine it would feel like to be the nail that caught the horseshoes during a game. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. My arms were covered in goosebumps and I tried to play it off to what had happened only moments ago. It was a normal reaction. I should've been scared. But I couldn't ignore the lingering sensation that this was only the beginning. I said, "What if he knew it was a trap? What if he's biding his time somewhere?"
I stood up and looked at the others who were hovering around the night table. Max placed his hand on the wall, changing the form of the molecules until they separated and revealed a hole. He pulled out a long gold chain with a large key at the bottom. It looked like something a rapper or pimp would wear on a night out on the town.
"That's what I nearly got stabbed for?"
"Yes," Max answered. He dangled it in front of him before placing it on the bedspread while he resealed the hole in the wall. I found myself drawn to the odd shape of the key. It didn't look like a normal key, actually quite different in form and color, but it looked familiar. It felt like des ja vu-I was sure I had seen it before.
The whole situation was more than freaking me out. I'd seen some strange things in the past few years thanks to the Czechoslovakians, but this was beyond all of that. This filled me with dread. I didn't say anything. I didn't know why I was afraid to share my trepidations with the group, but I was.
Instead I opted for my normal sarcasm. "That's the most garish looking thing I've ever seen."
Michael placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me into a seat at the table. He chucked the towel at my face and ordered, "Keep the towel there for another minute."
"I just-that gaudy monstrosity is filled with great power? What does it do? Blind people with its ugliness?" I turned to Jesse who was seated next to me and added, "Those Morlagolas made it indestructible but couldn't take the extra few minutes to make it pretty?"
Jesse laughed and slid a bottle of water across the table. He said, "For you."
I picked it up, not realizing how thirsty I was until the first drop of water landed on my tongue, and gulped down half the bottle. I wiped the excess water from my lips and said, "You're a godsend, Jesse the Jackass."
"The nickname stuck, I see."
"I only mock the ones I love."
"That's a lie. She mocks everyone," Kyle said.
"Shush," I said, swatting him away. As he joined Max and Michael, I added, "I was trying to make him feel special."
"I don't think I've ever been so flattered in my life," Jesse responded. He watched as Max, Michael, and Kyle inspected the key, talking in hushed whispers. He leaned over to me and asked, "Did the guy mention anything about Isabel?"
"Not really. He was too busy blathering on about death and destruction. Nothing makes people chatty quite like ominous evil."
"This key is evil?"
I shrugged, "He mentioned something about not being able to understand its power." I jumped out of my chair when a fluorescent light shot across the room. A few smaller flashes lit up the room and I followed the direction, straight to Michael.
"You put it on."
"I told him not to," Max replied.
"Michael!"
"Maria, I was trying to keep it safe."
"And your pocket wouldn't work? Take it off," I said, reaching out to remove the thing from around his neck. From what the guy had said before Michael vaporized him, I didn't think it was a good idea for him to be wearing it. My mind filled with images of the key sucking out Michael's soul. Michael smacked my hand away and I repeated, "Take it off, Michael."
"I can't."
"I've got a bag. You can put it-"
"No, I literally can't. The damn thing won't come off."
I looked down at the chain, which was glowing neon green and the key itself was bright red with colors swirling around its center. I turned to Max and said, "That can't be good."
"I'd have to agree with you. Mr. Impatience once again rushes into stupidity," Max replied.
I stood on my tiptoes and smacked the back of his head, "Idiot."
"How was I supposed to know?"
"You're unleashing beacons into the universe, Michael," I said. I noticed everyone looking at me like I was crazy and shrugged. I covered my face with my hands, hoping for a simple answer, and said, "I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I got the distinct impression from evil dude number one that it wasn't a good thing."
"What else did the guy say to you before he became alien ash?" Kyle asked.
I attempted to touch the key again, but Michael pushed my hand away and shot me a warning look. I growled and answered Kyle, "It's called the Morlagola Key. It works with an amulet. Apparently whoever that freak was working for needs it to use the amulet-otherwise it can destroy her."
"Her?"
"Lonnie," Kyle guessed.
"Why would she kidnap Isabel and Liz to get something she already had possession of, boys?" I asked.
"Who knows why that girl does anything? If she's involved, I'll put an end to it," Max stated.
"I don't think it's her," I replied.
The guys ignored me and continued to talk out their next move. I didn't pick up most of it. Too busy studying the small cramped quarters, looking for clues, though I had no idea what would constitute a good lead.
When I turned my attention back to their conversation, Max whispered something to his two flunkies, who nodded in agreement.
Michael piped in, "We've got the upper hand."
"Says the man lit up like a float in the Disney Electric Parade," I muttered.
Jesse glared at him and said, "Let's not forget that they've still got Isabel and Liz held hostage."
Michael spun around and stared down Jesse. If it were possible, I had a feeling Michael would've melted Jesse with his retinas. He said, "Did I ask for your opinion? I mean, what are you doing here anyway? Don't you have a law firm to get back to?"
"Isabel is my wife."
"Nice of you to remember that after eighteen months of not being concerned."
"Michael, that's not fair," I interrupted.
Michael shrugged, "Whatever. I guess you have to stick up for him."
"That's ENOUGH, Michael," Max said in his not-another-peep voice.
"What do we do now?" Kyle asked. He glanced at each of our faces and added, "Jesse has a point. They've still got Liz and Isabel and we're no closer to finding them than we were earlier."
"We wait. If Maria's right and there were two of them, then someone should be coming for this key again real soon," Michael answered.
"Except it's stuck to your freaking skin," I replied.
"So?"
"So? Did he say 'so'?" I replied. I tried to keep myself cool and collected. What we all needed at the moment was a level head, but that was like asking Ozzy Osbourne to give up cursing. I curled my hand into a fist to keep from smacking him and said, "Michael, you don't know what this key can do. What if it kills you? Did you think of that?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
"There's got to be someplace to get information on this thing."
Michael folded his arms, "Like where? The alien research library?"
I rolled my eyes and responded dryly, "I was going to say find his accomplice, but your idea might work."
Max rubbed his temples and said, "Maria, you have to tell us everything the guy said to you."
"I basically did. Key.needs amulet.can't be destroyed.he didn't say if he was an alien."
"He wasn't," Michael replied.
"Maria, you got a better look at him this time though, right?" Jesse spoke up. He came around and said, "Earlier you said the guy looked familiar. Do you remember him now?"
"I can't place him."
"Think Maria," Max replied. He stared at me and said, "We need something to go on, a way to track down his partner. If we find his partner, I think we'll find Isabel and Liz, but we don't have much time. I can feel her growing more and more distant from me. The both of them. My connections with them are weakening."
"No pressure there," I replied. I wracked my brain for any memory of the man, but the only thing that kept playing in my head was the knife against my throat. I instinctively clutched at my throat and turned away from everyone.
Michael's voice filtered through my head, "Give us a minute."
There was a shuffle of footsteps as everyone crossed the room and exited the door. Michael put his finger on my chin and lifted my face to look at him. I thought that I must be dying because Michael was being sweet. I tried to prepare myself for this moment, having waited for it our entire on again/off again relationship, but it didn't matter. He said, "I told you not to come."
It snapped me out of my little funk and I replied, "Are you for real?"
"What?"
"No, I really want to know. I nearly get my head severed off and you're going to play the I-told-you-so game with me?"
"Well, you shouldn't have come. He was our one lead and he's dead now."
"Because you blew him up."
"What was I supposed to do? Let him kill you?" Michael hollered. He slammed his fists on the table and knocked the remainder of my water onto the floor. I could hear him letting out sharp, ragged breaths and he said, "I was happy when you decided not to come with us, Maria."
The words pierced through me. I'd never been shot in my life, but I was pretty sure that a bullet felt quite similar to the ache coursing through my body. His words dug into my flesh and every nerve in my body was on alert, well aware of what had occurred. I fell into the chair and said, "Oh."
Michael didn't look at me. He cleared his throat and he muttered, "It wasn't how-"
I cut him off when I noticed the key. It had risen off his chest and was pointing past me, outside the window, glowing a violet color. I pointed and said, "What the hell?"
"You know I'm not good with words and that came out-"
"Moron, look down at the key," I ordered as I jumped out of the chair. I was going on pure adrenaline, thankful for any distraction from the severity of Michael's words. Until that moment, I was able to allow myself to believe that he and I could have a happy ending. I was sure that once we got Isabel and Liz back, he would insist I stay with them-stay with him. Who knew that one sentence could destroy all those hopes in the span of a few seconds?
But there wasn't time to worry about that while Michael resembled an Oompa Loompa suffering from radiation poisoning.
"Michael, you're blue."
"What?"
"Your skin is blue," I stated as calmly as I could muster. I hurried to the door, practically swung it off its hinges, and shouted, "Max, we've got a problem."
The three of them rushed into the room and their mouths gaped open at the sight of Michael. Kyle asked, "Why does Michael resemble a dance floor at a gay bar?" He met our curious gazes and added, "Not that I've ever been to one. Read about it in books."
"Michael, do you feel okay?" Max asked, approaching him cautiously. Max placed himself between Michael and me as if he expected Michael to excrete whatever was causing this situation.
Michael said, "Aside from the fact that I'm a freaking smurf?"
"Can you explain what was happening right before-"
"We were fighting, then the key levitated and pointed out the window. Next thing I knew Michael was blue," I said and Michael nodded in agreement. I asked, "Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Has it affected your powers?" Max inquired.
"Not that I can tell, but I haven't tried to use them."
"Maybe it's the beacons. Maybe they've located you."
Michael glared at me, "You're a real picker-upper, Maria. It's what I love about you."
I rolled my eyes, "Says the moron who decided to play dress up with an ancient amulet's link to god only knows what!"
Max held up his hand for quiet while Kyle muttered to Jesse, "Some things never change."
Max paced the room and said, "There has to be some explanation for this. What motive did Lonnie have for giving us this?"
"Do you think she attempted to use it and attracted unwanted attention to herself?"
"It's possible," Max replied. He glanced over at Michael who was leaning against the wall with a pained expression on his face. My eyes widened and I looked at Jesse and Kyle nervously, wondering if they saw the same thing or if I was hallucinating. I didn't think it could get stranger than seeing Michael turn blue, but I was beginning to think I spoke too soon. Max asked, "Are you okay?"
"Doesn't matter how many times you ask the question, Maxwell, the answer doesn't change."
"I'm only asking because you're floating."
"Come again?" Michael replied. He looked down at his feet and his face contorted in horror when he realized he was hovering about a foot off the ground.
I fell back into the chair and said, "If he starts spitting up pea soup, I'm outta here."
"You and Jesse should probably leave now, Maria," Max said.
"What?"
"No way. I'm not leaving until Isabel is safe," Jesse added.
Max shook his head, "I don't know what we're dealing with here, but neither of you have any powers to protect yourselves from Michael."
"I don't need protection from Michael," I stated.
"Maria, don't be stupid. We don't know what's going on here," Michael replied.
"Right. I know. And you never wanted to see me again," I said, finishing his train of thought for him. Suddenly, despite all the distractions in the world, all I could think about was the overwhelming despair I was feeling. I hated that I was allowing it to take hold of my brain and scolded myself for being so damn selfish. My best friend was in danger and we had no idea what was going on with Michael, but there I was, wishing I had never let Jesse talk me into this adventure or re-igniting the hope I felt whenever I was around Michael.
I should've known it was useless right from the start. Michael and I never changed. He would always be pulling away and I would always be left, clamoring to make sense of it all. There would always be danger and it would always be held over my head that I couldn't truly understand the impact of it all.
Because I wasn't like them and loving him wasn't enough to make that difference inconsequential.
I glanced at Michael, looking for any indication that I should stay, that he wanted me around, but his face was a blank canvas. I sighed and said, "Fine. You guys win."
"What?" both Michael and Jesse replied.
I turned to Jesse and said, "We're more harm than good right now. They can't concentrate on Liz and Isabel if they're worried about protecting us, Jesse."
"Maria."
I cut Jesse off, "Give Max your information and when they've got everything under control, Isabel can contact you if she wants. Either way--" I looked to Michael and finished, "We don't belong here."
"She's my wife."
"She's my sister, Jesse. I swear I won't let anything happen to her, but Maria's right. We don't know what we're dealing with."
"We can help."
"No, we can't," I said.
Jesse stared at me for a minute before shrugging in defeat. He pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and said, "Give this to her for me." He handed the card to Max and hurried out of the room without a second glance.
I stood still, listening to Jesse's footsteps as he rushed down the stairs echoing in the air, until the sound of a throat clearing pulled me out of myself. I walked over to Kyle and hugged him. I pulled at his crazy Afro and said, "Take care of yourself."
"I will. Be careful."
I nodded and turned to Max. I hugged him too and he said, "I suggest you go straight to the train station. You'll be safe once you get back to your life."
I bit my lip and said, "You find her, Max. Make sure she's okay and tell her how much I love her."
Max nodded and hugged me. He said, "I promise, Maria."
I faced Michael and stared at him for a minute. Neither of us said anything, even though I was willing him to say the words, to find the magic phrase that would get me to stay and help him. He raised his hand in a half-wave, "See ya."
I gritted my teeth together and mumbled, "Whatever."
I didn't look back-there was to be no more looking back-and I hurried out of the room, taking the steps two at a time. I exited the building, allowing the cold twilight air to sting my skin and act as the activation to the pent-up tears. I noticed Jesse standing on the corner, kicking at a fire hydrant, and walked around him without a second look.
I heard him yell my name, but I kept walking. The only clear thought I had was that I had to keep moving and get the hell outta New York. I quickened my step, when Jesse's voice got closer as if I could mentally outrun him.
I made it about ten blocks before Jesse's arm finally pulled me aside. Strangers on the street glanced at us like we were a typical lover's spat unfolding before the public's eye and I pushed him off me. I hissed, "Don't touch me." I rubbed my arms and said, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Jesse. I can't believe I let your stupid optimism wash off on me."
"We can't give up, Maria. The people we love need us right now."
"Enough with your pep talks. I don't care what you do. You want to tail the alien crew? Be my guest. But leave me out of it." I started to walk off down the block, unsure of where I was going. My emotions were in control and unfortunately they had little sense of direction. I glanced at the street sign and Jesse took that as the opportunity to fall in stride with me. I shot him a look and said, "You're a nuisance."
"They don't call me Jesse the Jackass for nothing."
I felt the start of a smile, but I pushed it down. I said, "My emotions can't keep-we're different from them, Jesse. You and I will never comprehend how hard it is to be an alien and they hate us for it."
"Liz hates you? Michael too?"
I laughed mirthlessly and stopped walking abruptly. I faced Jesse and said, "Let's face the truth, Jesse. There is a reason that neither of us went with the group the first time around."
"I wasn't invited."
"Which I might have believed a few weeks ago, but now that I know you, I get the strong feeling that no one could stop you from doing something you really wanted to do."
"Same goes for you."
"Exactly my point."
"Your point is nonexistent."
"Is not."
"You seemed to have misplaced it somewhere amidst your whining and pity party for one."
"Oh shut up," I started to walk again. I crossed the street and walked down the stairs to the subway station. I noticed Jesse was still riding my tail and I chucked a subway token at his head. His hand snapped up and caught it nonchalantly. He winked at me and I said, "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you're almost as annoying as Michael."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, sliding the token into the machine and walking through the subway gates.
I stood on the platform, pretending to get my bearings although it was pretty obvious I was winging it, and replied, "Then you're an idiot to boot."
Jesse stepped in front of me and said, "It wasn't supposed to end like this."
"This is exactly what was supposed to happen," I replied. I felt my lungs burning and my stomach lurching forward as my mind replayed the incident. I pushed back the tears and said, "Michael told me he never wanted me to come along in the first place. Isabel didn't either.and if we were both honest, we didn't want that anymore than either of them."
"Because we're different?" Jesse asked. When I nodded, he replied, "That's bullshit."
"Whatever."
"If you really believed that, none of them would've been in your life when I met you. How long were you and Michael together? And what about Liz? How long have the two of you been friends?"
"It's not that simple."
"Everything is that simple, Maria. Every single thing that happens can be broken down into a simple act, but it's us humans that make it difficult," Jesse replied. A loud horn sounded and the light from an approaching train could be heard. Jesse glanced at me and said, "But if you're willing to let Michael and Max push you away because you're all scared of how much you need one another, well--"
"Spare me the clichés. My head hurts enough already."
Jesse shrugged, "Maria, I'm a man of logic. It's how I make my living, and logically, they need us. We don't have targets on our backs. The fact that we aren't like them, that we're different, is what would make it easy for us to get close to whoever is responsible for everything."
The subway screeched to a halt and the bell sounded as the doors opened. I stood there, not moving, and the doors shut before me. Jesse smirked and I said, "I'm not sure I buy this theory of yours, but what are you suggesting here?"
"That guy told you about the key right? Any information that the guys have, we have too."
"So?"
Jesse grinned. He said, "Remember earlier you said that there had to be a place to get information on the key?"
"It was less than thirty minutes ago, Jesse. I'm crazy, not senile," I commented. I met his eerie grin and said, "I also recall that there's no place to get that type of data. I was grasping at straws."
"But maybe you weren't. Where's the alien capital of the world?"
I stared at him for a minute and he nodded as if he could read my mind. My mouth mimicked his goofy grin and we simultaneously said, "Roswell."