Chapter One: A Matter of Perspective
Two Whales Diner, Arcadia Bay, Oregon, United States
October 26th, 2013
Saturday 9:00 AM
Maxine "Max" Caulfield entered the Two Whales Diner that sat along the main road of the small seaside town Arcadia Bay. The short eighteen-year-old girl had a white complexion, medium auburn brown hair, tired blue eyes, and freckles and she wore a yellow sweater with the sleeves rolled up revealing a silver watch around her left wrist and a blue butterfly tattoo on her right wrist, gray pants a beige belt, and brown slip on shoes. She also wore a blue dream catcher necklace and carried a navy blue and brown shoulder bag. Slowly, she looked around the busy diner.
Two Whales Diner sat on Arcadia Bay Ave which made the diner popular with the residents of the small seaside town as well as the students of Blackwell Academy like herself. The 1950s aesthetic was complemented by the old fashion service and home style cooking. The silver curved ceiling held a row of still fans, the counter top was silver with a white wall underneath and a thin blue horizontal line that went across, the delicious smell of food escaped from the kitchen kept behind the counter, the windows with their white shutters up gave view to the clear blue bay, a jukebox behind her played old music from the left end of the diner, the booth seats were red leather with white tops and a silver table between them where menus and condiments were neatly placed, and the white tiled floor had black stars in each corner. She knew the diner was where she needed to be.
Cautiously, she walked slowly toward the right end of the diner. She saw familiar faces except one… She shook her head, and those thoughts away, and kept searching for… him. The man whose voice she heard in her head… She argued with herself all morning, unsure if she should come, worried and scared he would be another Mark Jefferson… now known to the public as the Polaroid Killer. But she realized he couldn't be if he asked to meet her in a public place with many witnesses. He also helped her… Since the funeral… His voice offered guidance, understanding, and… hope. She wanted to know why. Slowly, her feet came to a stop and her already beating heart beated faster when she saw him.
The man sat alone in a booth in the right corner of the diner with his hands folded on the table. He had a brown complexion, short curly black hair, tired brown eyes, and a full black beard and he wore a tan jacket, a white t-shirt, plain blue jeans with a black belt, and worn white shoes. But his tired brown eyes were focused on her, her alone, and no one else. And she heard his voice again in her head, confirming who he was.
Maxine.
Cautiously, she began to walk slowly toward him. She stopped before his booth and continued to stare at him. Lazily, he waved his right hand to the empty seat across from him. And ever slowly, she sat down. Neither of them spoke, both listening to the sound of early morning chatter between customers and old, slow music from the jukebox at the other end of the diner.
"Have you eaten? Would you like breakfast? I'll pay." The man said. She didn't reply right away, surprised by the sound of… concern in his voice. But, truthfully, she hadn't known who or what to expect…
"No. Yes. But I have mon-!" The words left her mouth in a jumble mess and she felt embarrassed but the man gave her a small smile and held his hands up.
"Please, let me. After all, I asked you to come here in the first place. But let's eat then talk." The man said after seemingly coming to a decision in his own mind. Max simply nodded her head slightly.
She watched as the man glanced at the counter and she saw the familiar waitress and cook, Joyce Price, busy with customers. She had short blonde hair and dull green eyes and she wore her usual waitress uniform. A navy blue collared shirt with her nametag, a white apron over a black skirt and brown belt, and light blue work heels. But something caught her attention as Joyce's face turned from one of understanding while listening to a customer talk about something unrelated to confusion before her eyes settled on their booth. She apologized to the customer and made her way to them. Quickly, Max turned her head back to the man who returned his eyes back to her. He simply gave her a knowing look.
When Joyce stopped at their booth, she gave the man a half hearted smile until it disappeared when she saw Max opposite him. She looked between the two before settling her wary eyes on Max, asking her the unasked question. Was he another Jefferson? But Max shook her head slightly and the smile returned but not fully. Max then avoided her eyes out of guilt. She hadn't talked to her or seen her much since the funeral but she still cared for her…
"What would you like, Max? The usual?" Joyce asked softly. Max nodded her head slightly again, her eyes still lowered. But she raised them to look at the man when Joyce asked her next question. The same question she had. Who was he? "And you, Mr…?"
"Elliot Blackwood. Though, just Elliot, please. I'm only thirty-two." The now named man, Elliot Black, said jokingly. Joyce chuckled before her expression turned thoughtful.
"I'm sorry, Blackwood? That surname sounds familiar…" Joyce trailed off quietly. Strangely, Max thought it did too… But she couldn't remember either… Elliot smiled sheepishly and tapped his right ring finger on the table repeatedly.
"Yeah… You might be familiar with the books I've written. Emily-" Elliot began until Joyce interrupted him with a small amount of excitement.
"Emily Blackwood! My daughter, Chloe, loved your books! She… She… S-she was killed months ago…" Her expression turned despondent and she lowered her head. Max watched as Elliot gently took her hands with his and Joyce raised her head slightly from surprise to look at him.
"I am deeply sorry for your loss. I've lost my family… My little sister…" He said quietly.
"Emily Blackwood… Your main character…" Joyce said tearfully. Elliot only nodded and offered her a napkin to wipe her eyes which she took and used gingerly.
"T-thank you… Now, please tell me what I can get you." Joyce said quietly.
"I'll have the homestyle eggs and bacon and the Arcadia Bay Roast coffee, please." Elliot said with a small smile. Joyce nodded and turned away quickly, heading back to the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with their order. But before she left again, she placed her right hand on his left shoulder.
"On the house… For one of my girl's favorite authors… And her best friend… You too, Max." Joyce said with a small, sad smile. He began to argue but stopped and nodded with his own small, sad smile. Max also nodded, her eyes returning to the table. Joyce returned to her station, leaving the two to eat in comfortable silence.
But Max examined the man as he ate. Subtly, of course. Her eyes occasionally glanced from her own breakfast and coffee. He wasn't a quick or messy eater. He seemed to eat and drink with some level of… order. A common routine? He wasn't in a rush for their talk… But she learned a lot already from his interaction with Joyce.
She remembered her best friend… Chloe… reading his books when they were younger. The Emily Blackwood series. A thirteen part book series of mystery fiction for young adults, all centered around fifteen-year-old Emily Blackwood, a girl who could read minds, solving different mysteries around her town, Blackwood. She even remembered burrowing a few of them whenever she finished reading them. They were also some of her favorites. And the author was capable of telepathy…
Finally, they both finished eating. Max kept her hands under the table, her right leg bouncing slightly from nerves. She watched as Elliot stacked and moved their plates closer to the window and folded his hands beside his half empty cup of coffee. He lowered his head slightly and gave her a small, tired smile.
"You already know who I am but allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Elliot Blackwood. The same author of the Emily Blackwood series. But what you're probably more interested in, Maxine "Max" Caulfield, is why you can hear my voice in your head? Why have I been trying to help you since the death of your best friend, Chloe? Well, that's why I've asked you to come here. I felt it was unfair of me to not give you any answers and figured it was time we met after about half a month of… talking. I thought it was time you knew the truth so to speak." Elliot finished quietly.
Max felt her heart beat faster and her right leg bounce slightly more. She tried to look him in the eyes but her eyes kept moving away from his own. Everything he said was true. After her funeral, she cried herself to sleep… She tried not to but couldn't… When she woke up, she heard his voice. He asked her to talk about what made her cry. And she did. He asked her to talk as much as she wanted to and he would listen. He never revealed anything about himself except that he was like her and that he lived on the east coast of the United States. He didn't believe they would meet but the more she spoke to him, the more she knew she was changing his mind to the possibility of them meeting. Finally, she convinced him to come after he convinced her to go to the Everyday Heroes Photo Contest at the Zeitgeist Art Gallery in San Francisco. And here they were. Finally, she spoke.
"Why me…?" Max asked quietly. Elliot gave her a small, sad smile.
"Because you're just like me, Maxine. You're special. We both are. You with chronokinesis. Me with telepathy. There are others… Telekinesis… Empathy, if you can believe that… But many more out there… But they're all very hard to find unless something traumatic happens. Or after it already happened…" Elliot finished quietly again.
"The funeral…" Max finished with her eyes on the table between them. But she caught his nod and he looked out the window toward the bay.
"I heard you… Your shouts… Your frustration… Your anger… I heard you cry until you fell asleep. You were the loudest that night… Unfortunately, those like us are easy to find because of that… Truthfully, I didn't intend to stay connected to your mind but I guess I found a kindred spirit. Of sorts… Of course, you made me doubtful after you decided to give me the nickname Mr. Voice because I wouldn't give you my name." Elliot turned back to her with a single eyebrow raised and a barely contained smile while Max fought back a giggle. However, it escaped her and she covered her mouth. But then her expression turned hesitant again…
"What changed your mind?" Max asked nervously.
"I decided it wasn't fair. How I invaded your mind and made you talk even after you told me it was okay. I didn't want you to think I was some imaginary friend born from trauma either. You've already dealt with enough… No, I wanted you to know I was real. So here I am. Ask me anything and I'll answer as best as I can."
"Can you control people's minds?" Max asked quickly. She flinched from the accusation in her tone but Elliot gave her an understanding smile.
"No. I can only speak to people in their own mind and hear their voice in my own mind. Nothing more. I can't control anyone." Elliot answered.
"Can you influence people…?" Max asked hesitantly. Her wary eyes focused on his face for any possible deceit… But she found none. Elliot sighed quietly.
"I can. It's possible but difficult. Very difficult. If I connect to someone's mind and whisper words into their head, they can choose to listen to me or not. You only knew I was someone else because I made myself known to you and talked to you every day. I was consistent. But I'm not with others for one reason. The first being I generally don't like the idea of hearing or influencing people's thoughts. There can be… disastrous consequences to doing such a thing. Believe me. And there's the matter of privacy. Thoughts are private. Thoughts are another way of what makes you, you. But I know I contradict that reason… At times, I use my power to find those like us. As I said before, it's not easy… Trauma… Generally, that makes their voices, or their thoughts, the loudest. That's how I found you."
"You've helped others?" Max asked. She tried to fight the small tone of jealousy that leaked into her voice at the idea of him spending time helping others but then she felt guilty too… Others like her… Who went through what she did… She wondered what the man before her went through…
"I have. Or tried… I've helped some. But others… They can only help themselves. My voice is only a second opinion to their own in their heads. They may see their situation… their powers… one way. I may see them both another way. A… matter of perspective. But I see you took to some of my ideas… The blue butterfly tattoo on your right wrist. It looks nice. It fits the new you, Maxine." Elliot smiled softly.
Max lowered her head to hide her small blush of embarrassment… But she then shook her head slightly and chided herself mentally. She didn't want to deal with another Jefferson… But she couldn't help but trust Elliot. He admitted to being able to influence people… but the blue butterfly had only been an innocent suggestion to remember what happened. To remember her… It made her feel like she was still there with her…
All because of him.
"So… what now?" I mean you've already helped me a lot… with everything else. But my powers… I haven't used them since her… the storm. But everytime I used them, things only got worse… I couldn't save her no matter what…" Max finished quietly, fighting back the tears forming her eyes.
Slowly, Elliot nodded before he took another slow sip of his coffee. He placed it back down gently and folded his hands together again and looked at her. His brown eyes were no longer tired. Finally, he spoke again. This time firmly with confidence that made a very small part of her, a very small part she had hidden away, almost want to believe what he said next. That there could be a chance… That there could be a chance she could save her…
Save Chloe.
"Then I will help you control time, Maxine Caulfield."
A new story after I said I would take a break. I really do have a problem. So truth be told, I have not played any of the games. Not a single one. But I've watched them and always been interested in the story and world despite the same feelings of cringe I've gotten every now and then. For a long time too, I've wanted to write a fic in this world but was unsure of what to write exactly. Until the new year started and this idea popped into my head. The first story I've written that follows a female protagonist with my very own original character, Elliot Blackwood, as a supporting character. Originally, a character I planned for my (maybe) future series, I decided he would fit well within this universe as Max and readers will learn more about him and their powers. Is having him here spoiling that (maybe) future series? Not really. The only things canon would be his name, appearance, a bit of his family history, and where he came from. Anything he does in this story will be non canon to the future series I write. But I will say this, Max and his relationship will be very interesting in this story as both are two sides of the same coin. But very different. Although, that may just be a matter of perspective... Anyway, I have no idea how often I'll update this story. I kind of want to do longer chapters and maybe a chapter a week. But yeah... Until then. Next chapter - Chapter Two: A Matter of Time
