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Chapter Seven-
Henri isn't happy when I find him just a bit later after saying goodbye to Sarah one last time. I tell him about what happened on the hayride and that I'm sure Sam saw my hands and is suspicious of me.
"You must go speak with him as soon as possible then if he knows or even suspects something alien that information that must not get out," Henri says with a scowl on his face.
"I'll go find him tomorrow and convince him that he didn't see anything," I say.
XXXXXXXX
Waking up that next morning I recall the night spent with Sarah and the fight that had occurred before remembering Sam. Getting up and heading out for the day I head towards his house. Sam lives on the outskirts of Paradise in a small, modest house. There's no answer when I knock so I try the door. It's unlocked and I open it and walkthrough.
Brown shag carpet covers the floors and family photographs from when Sam was very young hang on wood-paneled walls. He, his mother, and his father, who is wearing glasses every bit as thick as Sam's. Then I look closer. They look like the same pair of glasses.
I creep down the hallway until I find the door that must be to Sam's bedroom; a sign reading ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK hangs from a tack. The door is open a crack and I peer inside. The room is very clean, everything is consciously put in a place. His twin bed is made, has a black comforter with the planet Saturn repeated across it. Matching pillowcases. The walls are covered with posters. There are two NASA ones, the movie poster from Alien, a movie poster from Star Wars, and one that is a blacklight poster of a green alien head surrounded by dark felt. In the center of the room, hanging from a clear thread, is the solar system, all nine planets, and the sun. And then I see Sam, hunched over a small oak desk, with headphones on. I push the door open and he looks over his shoulder. He isn't wearing his glasses, and without them, his eyes look very small and beady, almost cartoonlike.
"What's up?" I ask casually as if I'm at his house every day.
He looks shocked and scared and he frantically pulls the headphones off to reach in one of the drawers. I look at his desk and see that he's reading a copy of They Walk Among Us. When I look back up he is pointing a gun at me.
"Whoa," I say, instinctively lifting my hands in front of me. "What's going on?"
He stands up. His hands are shaking. The gun is pointed at my chest. I think that he's lost his mind.
"Tell me what you are," he says.
"What are you talking about?"
"I saw what you did in those woods. You're not human."
I was afraid of this, that he saw more than I had hoped.
"This is crazy, Sam! I got into a fight. I've been doing martial arts for years."
"Your hands lit up like flashlights. You could throw people around like they were nothing. That's not normal."
"Don't be stupid," I say, my hands still in front of me. "Look at them. Do you see any lights? Put the gun down Sam."
"Tell me! What are you?" I roll my eyes.
"Yes, I'm an alien, Sam. I'm from a planet hundreds of millions of miles away. I have superpowers. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
He stares at me, his hands still shaking.
"Do you realize how stupid that sounds? Quit being crazy and put the gun down."
"Is what you just said true?"
"That you're being stupid? Yes, it's true. You're too obsessed with this stuff. You see aliens and alien conspiracies in every part of your life, including in your only friend. Now quit pointing that damn gun at me."
He stares at me, and I can tell he's thinking about what I said. I drop my hands. Then he sighs and lowers the gun.
"I'm sorry," he says.
I take a deep, nervous breath. "You should be. What the hell were you thinking?"
"It wasn't actually loaded."
"That doesn't help if you don't know that man," I say.
"Why do you want so badly to believe in this stuff?"
He shakes his head and puts the gun back in the drawer. I take a minute to calm myself down and try to act casual, like what just happened is no big deal.
"What are you reading?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Just more alien stuff. Maybe I should cool it a bit."
"Or just read it as fiction instead of fact," I say. "The stuff must be pretty convincing, though. Can I see it?"
He hands me the latest copy of They Walk Among Us and I sit tentatively on the edge of his bed. I think he's calmed down enough to not spring a gun on me again at least. Again, it is a bad photocopy, the print slightly unaligned with the paper. It isn't very thick—eight pages, twelve at the most, printed on legal-sized sheets. The date at the top reads November. It must be the newest issue. Flipping through the pages I find it on page 4.
THE MOGADORIAN RACE SEEK TO TAKE OVER EARTH
The Mogadorian alien race, from the planet Mogadore of the 9th Galaxy, has been on Earth for over ten years now. They are a vicious race on a quest for universal domination. They are rumored to have wiped out another planet, not unlike Earth, and are planning to expose Earth's weaknesses in a quest to inhabit our planet next.
(more to follow next issue)
I read the article three times. I was hoping there might be more to it than what Sam already said, but no such luck. And there is no Ninth Galaxy. I wonder where they got that from. I flip through the new issue twice. There is no mention of the Mogadorians. My first thought is that there was nothing left to report, that more news failed to present itself. But I don't believe that's the case. My second thought is that the Mogadorians read the issue and then fixed the problem, whatever the problem was.
"Do you mind if I borrow this?" I ask
He nods. "But be careful with it."
"This is weird stuff, Sam Goode," I say.
He smiles. "Weird people like weird stuff."
"Where do you get this?" I ask.
"I subscribe to it."
"I know, but how?" Sam shrugs.
"I don't know. It just started arriving one day."
"Are you subscribed to some other magazine? Perhaps they pulled your contact info from there."
"I went to a convention once. I think I signed up for some contest or something while I was there. I can't remember. I've always assumed that's where they got my address."
I scan the cover. There's no website listed anywhere on it, and I didn't expect there to be, considering that Henri has already searched the internet high and low. I flip the paper open to look for the publishing page that all newspapers and magazines have. There isn't one here, only more stories and theories.
"There isn't a publisher info page."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how magazines and newspapers always have that page listing staff, editors, writers, where it's being printed, and all that? You know, 'For questions, contact so and so.' All publications have them, but this doesn't."
"They have to protect their anonymity," Sam says.
"From what?"
"Aliens," he says, and smiles, as though acknowledging the absurdity of it.
XXXXXXXX
Three hours later, at noon, Sam's mother still isn't home. I ask Sam where she is and he shrugs as though he doesn't know and her absence is nothing new. Mostly we just play video games and watch TV and for lunch, we eat microwavable meals. The whole time I'm there he doesn't once wear his glasses, which is odd since I've never seen him without them before. Even when we ran the mile in gym class, he kept them on. I grab them from the top of his dresser and put them on. The world becomes an instant blur and they give me a headache almost immediately.
I look at Sam. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against his bed, with a book of aliens in his lap.
"Jesus, is your vision really this bad?" I ask.
He looks up at me. "They were my dad's."
I take them off. "Do you even need glasses, Sam?"
He shrugs. "Not really."
"So why do you wear them?"
"They were my dad's."
I put them back on. "Wow, I don't see how you can even walk straight with these on."
"My eyes are used to them."
"You know these will screw up your vision if you continue wearing them, right?"
"Then I'll be able to see what my dad saw."
I take them off and put them back where I found them. I don't really understand why Sam wears them. For sentimental reasons? Does he really think it's worth it?
"Where is your dad, Sam?"
He looks up at me. "I don't know," he says.
"What do you mean?"
"He disappeared when I was seven."
"You don't know where he went?"
He sighs, drops his head, and resumes reading. Obviously, he doesn't want to talk about it.
"Do you believe in any of this stuff?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
"Aliens?"
"Yeah."
"Yes, I believe in aliens."
"Do you think they really abduct people?"
"I have no idea. I guess we can't rule it out. Do you believe they do?"
He nods. "Most days. But sometimes the idea just seems stupid."
"I can understand that."
He looks up at me. "I think my dad was abducted," he says.
He tenses the second the words leave his mouth and a look of vulnerability crosses his face. It makes me believe that he has shared his theory before, with someone whose response was less than kind.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he just disappeared. He went to the store to buy milk and bread, and he never came back. His truck was parked right outside the store but nobody there had seen him. He just vanished, and his glasses were on the sidewalk beside his truck." He pauses for a second. "I was worried you were here to abduct me."
It's a hard theory to believe. How could nobody have seen his father abducted if the incident occurred in the middle of town? Perhaps his dad had reason to leave and he plotted his own disappearance. It's not hard to make yourself disappear; Henri and I have been doing it for eleven years now. But all of a sudden Sam's interest in aliens makes perfect sense. Perhaps Sam just wants to see the world as his dad did, but maybe part of him truly believes that his dad's final sight is captured in the glasses, somehow etched into the lenses. Maybe he thinks that with persistence one day he'll eventually come to see it as well and that his dad's last vision will confirm what is already in his head. Or maybe he believes that if he searches long enough he'll finally come across an article that proves his father was abducted, and not only that but that he can be saved.
And who am I to say that he won't one day find that proof?
"I believe you," I say. "I think alien abductions are very possible."
XXXXXXXX
The first snowfall came two weeks later. A slight dusting, just enough to cover the truck with a fine powder. Since just after Halloween, once the Loric crystal spread the Lumen throughout my body, Henri has begun my real training. We've worked every day, without fail, through the cold weather and the rain and now the snow. We stand in the backyard, thirty feet apart, facing each other.
"Alright Henri let me have it"
He holds a kitchen knife in each hand.
"Are you ready?" he asks.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
He throws the first knife down towards my leg, I conjure a power deep within me. It's basically second nature at this point snagging the knife out of the air and throwing back next to Henri.
"Again," Henri says.
He throws the second knife this time straight towards me center mass, I grab this one with my bare hands as it nears me.
"Come on Henri take the kid gloves off start going for real," I say, tossing the knife to him.
Henri nods and looks at the ground picking up the two knives.
"If you are so sure John."
He takes a knife in each hand and whips them towards me faster than normal. I grab them both with my mind, and just as I'm about to retort asking if that's all he's got I see three smaller knives flying towards me. I grab the first one out of the air and deflect another with it and using my Telekinesis I grab the last knife a foot away from my face.
"Good John, keep it up. Always expect the unexpected especially with what we are up against, you may never know when they will have something hidden up their sleeve." He says.
I can see the pride in his eyes as we stop for a break.
I am covered in sweat and mud and melted snow after our workout. Henri pushed me harder than normal today and came at me with a fierce determination to test my limits. Beyond the telekinesis practice, most of our session was spent drilling old techniques in combat, wrestling, mixed martial arts—followed by how to spot fear in the eyes of an opponent and then know how best to expose it. I have outpaced Henri in the strength and speed margin years back but when it comes to straight-up Martial Arts and hand-to-hand combat he still makes me work hard for the win and still sometimes even the loss.
XXXXXXXX
Sarah arrives right around dinner time. I walk outside and kiss her as she's coming up to the front porch. I take her coat from her and hang it when we're inside. Our home-ec midterm is a week away, and it was her idea to cook the meal before we'll have to prepare it in class. As soon as we begin cooking Henri grabs his jacket and goes for a walk. He takes Bernie Kosar with him and I'm thankful for the privacy. We make baked chicken breasts and potatoes and steamed vegetables, and the meal comes out far better than I had hoped. When all is ready the three of us sit and eat together. Henri is silent through most of it though he does applaud our culinary skills. Sarah and I break the awkward silence with small talk, about school, about our going to the movies the following Saturday. Henri rarely looks up from his plate and just watches us interact, I can tell that something is on his mind though
When dinner is over Sarah and I wash the dishes and retreat to the couch. Sarah brought a movie over and we watch it on our small TV, but Henri mostly stares out the window. Halfway through he gets up with a sigh and walks outside. Sarah and I watch him go. We hold hands and she leans against me with her head on my shoulder. Bernie Kosar sits beside her with his head in her lap, a blanket draped over both of them. It may be cold and blustery outside, but it's warm and cozy in our living room.
"Is your dad okay?" Sarah asks.
"I don't know. He's been acting weird."
"He was really quiet during dinner."
"Yeah, I'm going to go check on him. I'll be right back," I say, and follow Henri outside.
He's standing on the porch—looking out into the darkness.
"So what's going on?" I ask.
He looks up at the stars in contemplation. "Something doesn't feel right," he says.
"What do you mean?"
"You're not going to like it."
"Okay. Let's have it."
"I don't know how much longer we should stay here. It doesn't feel safe to me, and with no new leads on Malcolm our objective here is basically a dead end."
My heart sinks and I stay silent.
"They're frantic, and I think they're getting close. I can feel it. I don't think we're safe here."
"I don't want to leave."
"I knew you wouldn't."
"We've kept hidden."
Henri looks at me with a raised brow. "No offense, John, but I hardly think you've stayed in the shadows."
"I have where it counts."
He nods. "I guess we'll see."
He walks to the edge of the porch and places his hands on the rail. I stand beside him. New snowflakes start falling, sifting down, specks of white shimmering on an otherwise dark night.
"That's not all," Henri says.
"I didn't think it was."
He sighs. "I'm not sure that this relationship with Sarah is a good idea."
I look over at him. His eyes are full of concern, and creases of worry traverse the length of his forehead.
"We don't know when we must leave, it could come at any time and I don't want you holding onto the hope of having a future with her."
"So what are you telling me?"
"I don't know how much we can expect from here on out," he says and pauses. "I think you should break up with her soon and I think we should leave."
I watch the snowfall, unable to decide whether I should be angry or sad.
"So what am I supposed to do? Break up with her shortly after we got together and then we move away again? I say with incredulity. " Henri we still don't know what happened to Malcolm, at least let me talk with Sam we can tell him who we are and who his dad was maybe he will know something?"
Henri just stares up at the stars. "Right there," he says. "Right there is where Lorien is."
Of course, I know full well where Lorien is without having to be told. There is a certain pull, a certain way that my eyes always gravitate towards the spot where, billions of miles away, Lorien sits.
"But whether or not you want to go to a new town or not doesn't mean the Mogadorians are going to stop searching for you. And if we get careless and settle, you can be assured they'll find us. And as soon as they do, they'll kill us both. We can fight them and maybe you are strong enough to beat the first wave they send at us but after that, they could just overwhelm us with sheer numbers. There's no way to change that. No way."
I know he's right. Somehow, like Henri, I can sense that much, can feel it in the dead of night when the hairs on my arms stand at attention when a slight shiver crawls up my spine even though I'm not cold.
"Do you ever regret sticking with me for this long?"
"Regret it? Why do you think I would regret it?"
"Because there's nothing for us to go back to. Your family is dead. So is mine. On Lorien, there is only a life of rebuilding. If it wasn't for me you could easily create an identity here and spend the rest of your days becoming a part of someplace. You could have friends, maybe even fall in love again."
Henri laughs. "I'm already in love. And I'll continue to be until the day that I die. I don't expect you to understand that. Lorien is different from Earth."
I sigh with exasperation. "But still, you could be a part of somewhere."
"I am a part of somewhere. I'm a part of Paradise, Ohio, right now, with you."
I shake my head. "You know what I mean, Henri."
"What is it that you think I'm missing?"
"A life."
"You are my life, kiddo. You and my memories are my only ties to the past. Without you I have nothing. That's the truth."
Just then the door opens behind us. Bernie Kosar comes trotting out ahead of Sarah, who is standing in the doorway half in and half out.
"Are you two really going to make me watch this movie all by my lonesome?" she asks.
Henri smiles at her. "Wouldn't dream of it," he says.
After the movie, Henri and I drive Sarah home. When we get there I walk her to her front door and we stand on the stoop smiling at each other. I kiss her good night, a lingering kiss while holding both her hands gently in mine.
"See you tomorrow," she says, squeezing my hands. "Sweet dreams."
I walk back to the truck. Henri pulls out of Sarah's driveway and steers towards home. I can't help feeling a sense of fear while remembering Henri's words the day he picked me up from my first full day of school: "Just keep in mind we might have to leave at a moment's notice." He's right, and I know it, but I've never felt this way about anyone before. Like I'm floating on air when we're together, and I dread the times when we're apart, like now, despite having just spent the last couple of hours with her. Sarah gives some purpose to our running and hiding, a reason that transcends mere survival. A reason to win. And to know that I may be putting her life in danger by being with her—well, it terrifies me. When we get back, Henri walks into his bedroom and comes out carrying the Chest. He drops it on the kitchen table.
"Really?" I ask.
"Really," He responds
We interlock hands around the lock and it springs apart in our hands. Henri opens up the chest pulling out the diamond knife blade and the spherical red crystal that turns into the bracelet before setting them down and relocking the chest. I remember the first time picking that one up it sent a bad feeling up my spine and a tingle up my arm. Thankfully Henri told me that's how it adjusts to the user before I had dropped it.
"John if we are going to stay here you must adhere to what rule I'm going to put forth okay?" Henri says.
"What is it"
"You must keep the bracelet on you at all times, the knife we will start practicing with until you are proficient with it and at the next sign of trouble be it tomorrow or a month from now we will leave immediately."
He is looking at me sternly now, I can tell that he is serious and won't take no for an answer.
"Okay I'll keep the bracelet on and I'll agree that if something major happens we will leave but if it comes to that can I at least say goodbye if we have time?" I plead to him.
"Very well, but only if we have the time I'll allow it. We don't want to risk ourselves any more than we have to."
