Hullo dear Sparks, and a very merry unbirthday to you.
I don’t really have much to say here this time. I think this story is getting to me. I’ve been in full-on creative mode, immersed for a few weeks now, and…
Maybe I need a break. It is after all a little close to home this week.
I think, like Logan, I’m wishing this part were over.
As for the story…
INDEX | Chapter 9 | Scenes 1 - 4 | Scene 5 | Scene 6 | Next Scene → Coming soon.
Previously: Tom’s death has Logan tied up in knots trying to figure out why he feels so numb then he realizes his fear of his own empathic powers is holding back all emotion like a dam wall. When the wall breaks, thanks to his powers, he is confronted not only by his own emotions but those of the entire household.
The chandelier tinkles above me as people file out through the Manor’s front door. Each of them is clutching a length of black ribbon to tie onto their shuttle, signifying their mourning at Tom’s internment in his final resting place. His ashes sit on the table behind me in a sealed black marble box, carved with our family crest, the No’Gard Wyrm prancing, surrounded by a field of chrysanthemums. It’s hard to believe that this is all that’s left of Tom’s two-meter, one-hundred-and-fifteen-kilogram body.
I nod and thank the people for their condolences and shared memories, but I really just wish they would leave already. Holding myself together and resisting this interminable day’s emotional onslaught has been torture. I don’t think it’s showing yet, but I can feel the facade slipping, my mask of composure is starting to crack. Exhausted and inexperienced as I am, each handshake is like a jolt, the undeniable instantaneous connection of physical contact. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Luke stands beside me, shaking hands and handing off ribbons. He’s stayed out of my head since it happened. It’s been five days, for him it’s a record. I’m only a little surprised. I’d give anything to be able to stay in my own head right now. I know he’s also hurting, but a little of his unique brand of support would be nice.
I exhale quietly as the next hand clasps mine and try to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Thomas was a wonderful person,” is all I hear of what the elderly man says. He is short and bald but erect, with a strong physique covered in a navy-blue sleeveless robe. Student? Fellow Master? Someone.
“Thank you,” I mutter when I notice he’s stopped talking and press a ribbon into his hands, then look away as the next pair of hands steps up, carried by stockings and black stilettos.
“I guess heroes also need saving from time to time hey, Logan?” A sweet slightly deep voice sneers, dripping with sarcasm as small hands clutch mine tightly instead of taking the ribbon.
“Cathy.” I acknowledge through clenched teeth seeing her formal military uniform with all its shiny plates and medals. They seem to be somewhat fewer in number than the last time I saw them, but my mind refuses to process any significance in that. Smug, self-righteous, vindictive, her emotions start seeping through her skin into mine.
“Drowned, huh?” She says with a slight frown and a sardonic pout, “I guess even the all-powerful Manorians are still human.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retort quietly taking a deep breath as my hands tighten involuntarily in hers.
She smirks at me, unfazed by my response. "Oh, I think I do. Everyone knows the stories about you and your 'powers.' Too bad they couldn't save your brother."
Anger flashes hot through my mind, but I swallow it down, unwilling to engage further, unsure if I can control myself if I do.
She smiles warmly, leans in to press her athletic body against mine in what must seem an affectionate gesture, and breathes into my ear.
“We know Elle is back. We know you had something to do with it. You’re just lucky we can’t prove it.”
Cathy pulls away, breaking the contact and the relief is palpable as the rush of emotions recedes, while she walks steadily away, with a sway in her hips, and a toss of her ponytail.
I shiver and step back as the next person approaches. A chill runs down my spine and my heart pounds in my chest. I’ve had enough. My own feelings are enough to handle right now. I turn and slip into the side door before I am cornered. Luke can handle the stragglers.
Reaching the solitude of the Manor’s corridors I lean against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. The strain of the day crashes over me like a wave.
Tom is gone. Tom is gone. Tom is gone. I’m all alone.
* * *
There’s a long white wall in the city, three meters tall and ‘s’ shaped, it winds for over a mile, covered with little compartments neatly arranged from top to bottom. The filled ones each have a little numbered plaque, with an engraved name and a couple of dates. I place Tom’s box in his and the attendant closes the door, sealing it with a hiss. I place my bare hand on the closed compartment. Goodbye, brother.
Tom’s plaque is no different from the rest. Name, birthdate, death date. All are equals in death, even though Tom had only one equal in life. This type of burial must seem a strange tradition by some standards, but considering the number of species that pass through this world, safety is the main concern of the Authority, and they have deemed it safest to incinerate any biological matter and store what remains, lest some unknown pathogen be released to infect the population.
With the ceremony over, I turn away and walk back past the line of mourners, each dropping their flowers down to crush under my feet as I pass.
It’s over. I can go home now, back to my gym and it’s gravity and the freedom it affords. Back to my solitude and peace.
* * *
As I step up onto the treadmill’s leathery belt, I wonder if the PG will be able to trace us with the camera footage. The camera in the girl’s room was directed away from the door, leaving a blind spot at the threshold. Tom couldn’t have been recognized with his energy up and after entering the room, the hallway camera would only show him from behind, so no positive ID would be possible. On the way out it was dark with the red flashing lights it’d be hard to make out details.
I’m obsessing over this. Why should it matter? Tom is dead. Even if they do pin it on him, they can’t prove we were involved and all they can do is take the girl back and that’ll be the end of it.
And Tom will have died for nothing.
Can I live with that?
* * *
I feel the weight of my frustration pressing down on me as I pace back and forth in the parallelogram of light that still enters through the panoramic windows of the gym at this hour. My footsteps echo off the walls, a rhythmic beat to the argument unfolding between Luke and I. He stares at me awkwardly from the doorway. He’s never been comfortable in the gym. It was always our place, Tom’s and mine.
With his hands clasped behind his back, Luke shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fatherly concern etched on his face.
“I stopped the sedative a week ago and she’s still not waking up.” He says as if it should matter to me, but all it does is leave a bad taste in my mouth.
“I told you, Luke, I won't do it. I'm not going near her.” I declare firmly, wondering why I even let him in here. I could have just left the Grav-Control on and turned the music up and he would eventually have gone away.
“I’m worried about how this might go, Logan, please.” Luke implores, his gaze flickering around the room before settling on me.
“No,” I growl, anger boiling just below the surface.
Luke sighs, his shoulders slumping just a little. “You pined for her for months after she left. You'd think you’d at least be happy to have her back.” He says, his gentle smile tinged with disappointment.
“That was almost three years ago! Things have changed. I've changed.” I retort, my jaw tight with tension.
Luke takes another step forward, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture. “What's so different?” He asks, with narrowed eyes. I don’t answer. “This is about again Thomas, isn't it? Logan, I know you miss him. I miss him too-”
“You know that’s not the reason, Luke.” I interrupt, my voice rising again.
“I'm not asking a lot, son. Just sit with her for ten minutes, see what happens-”
“No! I'm not going near her!” I snap, my eyes flashing with unbridled rage.
“Logan, listen to yourself. You don't want to be treated like a child, but anyone listening outside the door would swear I'm trying to convince a six-year-old to give up his favorite toy. What do you have against her? She didn't kill Thomas, indeed if it weren't for her we wouldn't even have got his body out!” Luke shouts in exasperation.
“If it weren't for her. If it weren't for her?! Luke, if it weren't for her we wouldn't have even been at that base in the first place!” My voice cracks with emotion, my fists trembling at my sides. “I knew from the start that it didn't feel right! If it weren't for her he would still be alive! She might not have killed him, but she's the reason he's dead!” I tremble a breath, my eyes wet and burning.
“Thomas made the decision himself. Even you couldn't talk him out of it. She didn't get him killed, they killed him. It isn't her fault.” Luke says, his voice gentle but firm.
I don’t need to listen to him lecturing me on who is to blame. I glance at the door to see if there’s enough space to brush past him and see a pair of small bare feet and a black braid brushing the ground beside them. It stops me in my tracks, just like the first time.
Ashamed and wondering how much she'd heard, I look back out the huge floor-to-ceiling windows and the horizon beyond, lit by late afternoon sunlight. I only hesitate a moment, then summon enough energy to smash through it and fly into the frigid air beyond, leaving Luke and the girl behind in a hail of glass shards.
Next Time: Misty is back! And she’s just heard that Logan wants nothing to do with her. How will Luke handle this one?
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
Or better yet:
and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
Having followed this from the beginning, riding the roller coaster of how I feel about each character, I understand what you are struggling with. I hate that I'm saying this as it comes out of my mouth into my microphone because I hated this advice whenever it was given to me, but I think the emotions you are feeling... As I would say about Logan... Is that if you rush to get away from them, they absolutely always forever sneak back up on you as long as there is unfinished business; trying to avoid them never brings closure :) Closure sucks, but it's necessary or else you never fully move on. For the first time in a while, I think I really am getting to understand Logan and look at him in a whole new light, for what it's worth. Good stuff, young lady!
The burial-
Almost all of us will or have gone thru a ceremony of passing similar to what Logan is experiencing... The most similar for me was when my maternal grandfather passed. The stages of grief around his passing were quite intense, especially the denial and anger. And I experienced a similar psychic denial at the funeral. That was not my grandfather in that coffin as far as I was concerned. And I didn't understand, as I don't think Logan understands, that the funeral ceremony is as much for the other family and friends to acknowledge and accept, as it is for immediate family, maybe more. And anger like Logan has, I had, especially in looking to deflect my grief on the doctors who treated my grandfather. Logan is riddled with guilt for helping to facilitate the rescue, which he is trying to deflect on Misty, and to Luke to some degree. But not on Tom!
Now Logan resorts to a juvenile outburst which will hopefully go a long way to defuse his pent up anger. Now he has to confront his blame toward a conscious and aware Misty! How does she react toward him? She could just call him an idiot, lol! But doesn't she harbor some latent guilt for escaping from Luke's compound and beating up Logan, which resulted in her 'capture' by PG? I think there is plenty of guilt for everyone, going back to the birthday party and even going back to first contact and rescue, if anyone cared to break it down!
So that's my brain dump this time!
Also Jenny, the incorporation of certain elements and added details of previous scenes or subsequent consequences do not go unnoticed BTW... 😊! Thanks