Fake Page 8
I guess I thought that by getting the fear gene, I’d be gaining something. But instead it feels more like I’ve lost something.
What? you ask.
Well, my sense of direction, apparently. Ever since the first wave of panic and terror hit my nervous system, I’ve felt lost. I still know my way around the city, but I find the whole crushing, ominous sprawl of traffic and buildings overwhelming. Even sitting in a room with people is disorienting. I find myself questioning every move I make or phrase I utter, wondering how it will make me look.
Also, I seem to have lost my voice. My inner voice. You know? That internal dialogue you have with yourself that goes something like, “Psychobabble, psychobabble, yadda, yadda, yadda”? In my case it was more like, “Screw the world. Who cares? Whatever. Yadda, yadda, yadda.”
Only that voice is quiet now. It must have choked on fear and died. All I hear in its place is an uninterrupted whimpering. I just don’t know how to talk to myself and make myself buy it. It’s a really lonely feeling.
So that’s me. Aimless, hopeless, and horrifically spineless. I’m just a quivery globule of fears. A booger beneath the bus seat of life.
And now Skyler says he needs me.
Weird.
He says we need each other—that we were meant to be together. And while I can definitely see how I’ve been benefiting from our arrangement, I can’t see what he gets out of it. Maybe he really feels this is part of his destiny—that he was somehow meant to find me.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that no one else in my life truly needs me. Not my AWOL dad. Not Ed anymore. Not Sam. Definitely not the FOHs. Jake only needs the drama and intrigue my life supplies. And Loki would say he needs me, but it’s only as part of some grand, malicious scheme.
Maybe no one has ever needed me. I’ve been liked, perhaps even loved at times, but never needed. Now Skyler says he doesn’t know what he’d do without me. And I have to admit, I don’t know how I’ve ever managed without him. We do seem to need each other. That’s nice for a change.
I may not have a spine. But I do still have a heart. In fact, since fear came into my life, it’s been asserting itself more than ever, squeezing and shuddering within me like it’s bruised or cramped for space. The only times I feel even vaguely normal are when I’m with Skyler.
Right now Skyler is my voice, my direction, my link to sanity. And quite possibly my only antidote for fearsickness.
Persephone
GAIA SAT HALF CURLED IN THE backseat of the world’s most repulsive cab. Its vinyl upholstery seemed to be coated in something slick. The floorboards held a colorful, granular detritus that also adhered to the greasy seat in places. Even the air was clouded with an unpleasant scent—a weird combination of fish sticks and Sanka.
And Skyler was there. Beside her. Skyler of private limousines and expensive cars, who could probably count the number of times he’d ridden in a cab on one of his well-manicured hands.
She studied his Nordic profile as it appeared and disappeared in the light of passing cars. Waves of guilt spilled over her with every dip of the taxi, like cold splashes of puddle water. “You know . . . you really didn’t have to ride home with me,” she said.
His silhouette turned and the next illumination of headlights revealed his off-center grin and reassuring blue eyes. “I know. I wanted to come. No way was I going to send you on your way alone after all you’ve been through.”
Gaia felt a corner of her mouth curl up to mirror his. “Thanks,” she whispered, snug in his gaze. The guilt trickled away.
“I just wish you could have stayed,” he added, facing front again.
And the guilt came back. Gaia chewed her lower lip and gazed out of her grime-streaked window. If only she could explain it to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him; she just had to contact D. and make sure he was okay. Her encounter with the homeless man had dredged up an overwhelming fear for her brother’s safety. But she had to keep all that from Skyler. Just for now.
As soon as enough time passed and her life fit some definition of normal, she would tell Skyler everything. She’d even introduce him to D. D. would love him. And she was sure Skyler would love D., maybe even want to take care of him, too.
In the meantime she just had to stay quiet and deal with her tides of guilt.
The strobe light effect of the oncoming traffic suddenly slowed. Gaia sat forward and glanced out of the slightly less dirty windshield. Sure enough, the Collingwood boardinghouse emerged from the hazy darkness. Gaia felt the familiar prick of dread, like a hypodermic to the gut.
“Now, see? Look at you,” Skyler murmured as the cab pulled alongside the curb. “You’re all tense again.” He ran his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you feel better.”
Gaia whirled to face him. “But you did. I felt a lot better.”
“But it didn’t stick, did it?”
She looked down and shrugged.
“I’ll miss you,” he murmured, lifting her chin with his fingertips. “The apartment will seem big and lonely without you.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said softly. “I promise.”
“You know what? I know exactly how you can.” Skyler tilted his head, a wry grin weighting his lopsided features. “You can spend the entire day with me tomorrow.”
“But aren’t you tired of me? Don’t you need to—?”
He held up a hand, brushing her words aside. “Uh-uh. I won’t take no for an answer. Unless . . .” He paused, looking slightly worried. “Do you have other plans?”
Plans? Gaia resisted the urge to snort ironically. With my crowded social circle of admirers? All those wonderful people who left messages on my cell phone, wanting to make sure I was all right?
“No,” she said, barely audibly. Her tongue felt thick and limp with self-pity. “No plans.”
“Good.” Skyler leaned back, his arm resting jauntily along the top of the oily seat. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll pick you up around eight tomorrow and take you out for breakfast. Then we’ll have the rest of the day to goof off.”
“Sounds great.”
“You should probably wear good walking shoes. And dress comfortably but not too casually in case we want to eat someplace nice.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and Gaia? Could you do something else for me?”
“Anything,” she replied, eager for a chance to pay him back. “What is it?”
“Would you wear your hair down? I like it that way.”
“Sure.”
He beamed proudly at her, like a teacher rewarding his best student. Gaia drank it in. She’d never been a teacher’s pet before, but she reveled in it now. She enjoyed Skyler’s attention, felt both comforted and intoxicated by it. She’d do anything to keep getting those gold stars.
She opened the door and started to climb out of the cab.
“Gaia?”
“Yeah?” She turned back to face him and found . . . his face. He had slid across the grubby seat and was now occupying her airspace, tipping into her gravity. And suddenly and swiftly, like a magnet to steel, his lips locked onto hers.
A maelstrom of emotions surged forward. If Skyler’s hands didn’t have such a firm grip on her, she would have tumbled backward, through the door, onto the curb outside.
In the brief yet intense time she’d known Skyler, he’d kissed her many times. On her cheek, her forehead, her hair, her hand. Even a couple of pecks on the lips. But this . . . this wasn’t a peck. It was too deep, too lingering. She knew there was a part of her that had always secretly wondered what it would be like to really kiss Skyler, that probably wanted to. But now, in his embrace, with his soft mouth pushing against hers, all she could focus on was the tangle of panicked thoughts jamming up her mind.
What did this mean? Was this serious or just a standard rich-boy goodbye picked up on his many jaunts to Europe? If it did mean something, was she enjoying it? Judging from her reciprocal
lip action, she wasn’t not enjoying it. But if she liked it, what about Jake? And why, oh why, couldn’t she shut up her brain and go with it?
Bad fear gene! Bad! Bad!
And then, just like that, it was over. Skyler pulled away and settled back against the seat. “Good night,” he murmured, smiling an uncategorical smile.
Gaia stumbled out into the crisp evening air. “Bye,” she mumbled, still reeling from all the seismic emotional activity.
She shut the door and watched as the cab drove away, keeping her eyes on the curved shadow of Skyler’s head. Eventually a delivery truck blocked it from view. Then she reached up and touched her fingers to her still-tingling lips.
That was some kiss! But what the hell did it mean? “Goodbye”? “Cheer up”? Or was it the start of something more intimate between her and Skyler?
No. She couldn’t think about that now. Right now she had to focus on the mission at hand: checking on her beautiful, faraway brother. Once those fears had been put to rest, she could return to the mystery of the kiss.
Gaia turned and headed up the sidewalk. The brownstone looked more somber than usual in the pale yellow light of the streetlamps. It felt strange coming back, as if she’d been gone a long time. But this homecoming brought no sense of relief. In fact, every step toward it seemed to reverse Skyler’s uplifting effects. She felt like Persephone, sent down to winter in Hades.
At least tomorrow she’d be with Skyler and it would be spring again. Even if just for one day.
From: gaial3@alloymail.com
To: dboy@shoalcreek.net
Re: Be careful!
Dearest D.,
Is everything all right with you? I know it’s been a few days since I last wrote and I’m sorry. Please tell me everything is okay. Are you still enjoying the farm? Is everyone still treating you well?
If anything at all has gotten you down, let me know. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll tell me if anything upsets you.
I love you, D. Take care of yourself. Always watch out for anything suspicious. You are so innocent, you may not realize how dangerous and insane a place the world can be. All we can do to cope is to look out for each other.
I’m sorry I can’t be there in person. I’ll join you again someday. Just stay safe and hang on until I can get things straightened out here.
Love always,
Gaia
happy–ish
His body language had all the characteristics of someone seriously contemplating self-flagellation.
Perfectly Horrible
THE DOOR OPENED ONLY AS MUCH AS the chain would allow. Through the crack Jake could see Suko’s narrowed, disapproving eyes, focusing on Jake like two black missiles, ready to strike.
“Hello. Is Gaia here?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager. Suko had that all-knowing air about her. Her intense stare seemed almost capable of administering a long-range, wireless polygraph.
“It is eight-fifteen on a Sunday, very early to be visiting,” she said reproachfully.
“Yes, I know. Sorry.” No need to tell her that was the plan. Get here early before Gaia had a chance to slip through his fingers again. “If Gaia is still sleeping, I could wait outside on the porch until she wakes up.”
“She is not here.”
“What?” Jake shouted. Stern furrows erupted around Suko’s eyes and mouth. “I’m sorry,” he added, returning to a meek, Beaver Cleaver tone, “I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t be here. Did she not come home last night either?”
“She came home.”
He waited for further elaboration. When none came, he asked, “Did she get my message? I told Zan to tell her to call.”
“You will have to ask Zan.”
Again he waited, staring at her scowl through the narrow rectangular opening. “So . . . could I talk to Zan?”
“She’s sleeping.”
Jake reached up and grasped a handful of his spiky, unwashed hair. “Can I ask,” he began, carefully blockading his frustration, “where Gaia is now?”
“She is not here. She left at eight o’clock.”
Damn! He’d just missed her! After thirty-six hours of frantic searching, he’d come within fifteen minutes of meeting her face-to-face. He’d lost Gaia twice.
He almost wished he hadn’t come so close. He almost wished Suko had said she’d never come home—almost.
“You should leave now. As I said, you are here too early. Also, you should know that you are not allowed to visit her here.”
“Look,” he said, opening his arms in a gesture of surrender, “couldn’t I just wait here for her?”
“No. Now please leave.” Suko nodded toward the sidewalk, a shard of anger in her typically smooth tone.
“What if I just waited until Zan wakes up and asked her some questions?”
“No!” Suko hit a volume level Jake hadn’t thought her capable of. He got the distinct feeling few people had ever heard it—or lived to talk about it. “If you do not leave now, I will call 911! Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Sorry.”
But Suko had already shut the door. Jake could see the nearby curtains flutter. Her sharp black eyes appeared in a corner of the front window, watching him.
I’m going. I’m going. He loped down the front path, beaten and disgraced, like a mangy dog that had strayed onto Suko’s well-kept lawn. If he’d had a tail, it would have been tucked between the legs of his faded blue Levi’s.
So it was official. Gaia was definitely ignoring him. She had returned home and didn’t even bother to call. At this point she must have gotten the six or seven messages he’d left on her cell phone or at least heard from Zan that he’d stopped by. Obviously she had no desire to talk to him.
If it was only a cold-shoulder treatment, that would be one thing. Jake could handle a brush-off. But he knew it was much worse than that. Gaia was in trouble. Oliver sure sensed it, and even he—lamest of all investigators—sensed it, too.
Jake ambled down the block until he was certain he was out of Suko’s monitoring range. He leaned against a brick wall surrounding a small park and playground and closed his eyes, feeling simultaneously restless and weary.
Where to now? Where could Gaia have gone so early?
A sudden, pulsating sensation emanated from the left side of his waist. Jake jumped sideways and pawed at the throbbing area. His hands closed around the boxy, alphanumeric pager clipped to his pants. A loan from Oliver.
Jake hit the display button and read Oliver’s brief, irritable-looking message:
Report in.
Beautiful. Now he had to go face the man he admired above all others and admit that he was a total failure. The perfect cap to this perfectly horrible weekend.
Sherpa
GAIA STARED AT SKYLER AS HE STOOD in the subway aisle, rocking sideways with the rhythmic motion of the train. Just like in the cab the night before, Gaia noticed he looked out of place among all the other subway riders. A descended demigod among mere mortals.
It wasn’t just his custom-made shirt or his sharp, patrician profile. Nor did it have to do with that über-confident, almost overly erect way he stood. It was something more . . . metaphysical.
Skyler Rodke, Gaia noticed, had an unmistakable energy that extended beyond his corporeal borders. At times she imagined she could see it gathering, nimbuslike, around him. It was evident in the way his blond hair seemed to give off its own light, in the way his blue eyes flickered like gas jets, and in the magnetic tug she felt in his presence. He was a walking power source. A gas giant who had pulled her into his orbit.
She wasn’t the only one who sensed it, either. As they moved through the subway, she’d watched the other riders instinctively make way for him, like peasants for a passing king.
Gaia wondered if by being around him, she could absorb some of that energy, increase her own stores of confidence. She had to admit it was alr
eady working. Whenever she was with Skyler, she didn’t feel quite so adrift. And then there was that kiss. . . .
Even if it hadn’t meant something bigger than friendship was brewing between them, it had been beautifully meaningful—a physical manifestation of the incredible connection they shared. She now knew that his feelings for her matched the depths she felt for him, whatever those emotions happened to be.
Skyler caught her staring at him and smiled. She smiled back, blushing slightly, then stared out the window into the dark tunnel. She still wasn’t bold enough to meet his eyes for long.
“You ready for breakfast?” he asked.
Gaia shrugged. “Sure.”
“I know a great place. I’ll take you there.”
The subway was slowing down, and people were pressing in around them, making for the exit. Skyler pointed to the doors, as if indicating that this was to be their stop. Gaia slipped her bag over her shoulder, holding tight to the strap, and joined the traffic jam of people.
As soon as the glass-and-metal doors opened, Gaia was bounced in every direction. It suddenly seemed like the entire train was disembarking. As the people surged forward, she kept her eye out for Skyler’s white blond hair but couldn’t see him anywhere. Had he already gotten off? Or was this not the right stop after all?
Eventually she reached the exit. She stood in the doorway, scanning the train platform for Skyler as more people pushed past her, getting on and off, a few yelling at her to move out of the way. But there was still no sign of him.
Gaia frowned. Should she go back and check the subway car? Or should she get off? Don’t panic, she told herself. She didn’t want to spin out of control again. Not here. Not without Skyler.
“Hey, Gaia!”
She glanced in the direction of the voice. The crowd was dispersing, hurrying toward the street exits, and Skyler was becoming visible near the front of the platform.
“Over here!” he shouted as he jogged toward her, waving his left arm as if directing a 747 toward the runway.
Just then the train hissed loudly, releasing its brakes. As Gaia made to step onto the platform, the door snapped shut. Its thick rubber edges closed around her bag, wrenching her right arm backward. She scrambled about, pulling as hard as she could to free herself, but with one arm effectively tied to the train, she couldn’t get up enough leverage.