Alone Together

We got off at the stop that was bordering the park. To my surprise, Braydie made a beeline for the zoo, her brunette hair bouncing behind her. I noticed for the first time that she was wearing skinny jeans, and then ducked my head and blushed that I was looking at her legs. I followed her to the entrance, and caught her just in time to see her signing a piece of paper for the employee at the ticket counter.

She got us into the zoo on an autograph.

                In response to my glare she said, “Flynn, she could get ten times the entrance fee for that piece of paper.”

                “Is this what it’s like being a rock star?” I asked.

                She grinned, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, kid.”

                Our first stop was the bears. It seems that everything you can find on this continent, they put toward the front. Braydie sat down on the bench facing the cage and nodded toward the animals, “So, I’m guessing you can’t see an animal’s Aura?”

                I scratched the back of my neck. “Uh, you can?”

                “It’s a rare ability,” She admitted, “But then, so are female Semiens. I used to practice on Mercury all the time. But I tell you what, if you answer one of my questions, I’ll show you their Auras.”

                “How are you going to do that?” I asked.

                “I have a theory.” Braydie coaxed, “So? Is it a deal?”

                I sat beside her and shrugged. “Why not?”

                She grinned and then asked, “Why do you call Marcus by his last name?”

                I scoffed, and stared at the bears in front of me, trying to come up with a good lie. I couldn’t. She was seeping the will right out of me. “I just can’t. I mean, I slept on his porch and he took me in. You know, it just feels like an imposition to me.”

                Braydie leaned forward. “You mean, he didn’t fight for you? You went to him?”

                I shrugged. “I didn’t know we were supposed to get fought over.”

                “I told you. Newborn Semiens are few and far in between. And we live so long that the Masters start getting skittish over time.” Braydie said.

                I stared at her. “How long do we live?”

                Braydie squinted at me. “Well, Archie is 207 years old. I think Marcus is a little older than that.”

                I gaped. “Whoa, what?? No, Barrick is in his early forties. He’s not 200…that’s impossible!”

                “Oh great.” She said, slumping back. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Said too much?”

                “Damn right, you have.” I said, my optimistic mood disappearing. “Why doesn’t he tell me anything? You’d think that something like that would be good to know.”

                “Especially since we’re getting to the age where we start slowing down,” Braydie added, shaking her head, “Ok, enough of that. Here, give me your hand.”

                I unaffectionately put my hand into hers. She grasped it and said, “Now concentrate on the bears.”

                I peered at them, feeling her skin against mine. And then I suddenly saw it: a multicolored shimmer that moved with every fiber of fur against the hulking bodies. One of the bears pressed her nose to the other, and the colors brightened for a moment, and then settled.

                “What…?” I trailed off.

                “Animals see Auras.” She explained. “That’s part of how they communicate with one another. It’s their language. It’s how a dog can speak to a monkey, or a turtle to a fish. All human beings could do it once, before we evolved; or de-evolved, really.”

                I grasped her hand tightly and stared with fascination. “There’s so many colors, how do they know what the others are feeling?”

                “Their brains work faster than ours.” Braydie said, “On a different level, even. They see at an excelled rate that even we Semiens have trouble with.”

                “So even we can’t see it.” I muttered. I looked at her. “But you can.”

                “I’m special,” She shrugged, “What can I say?”

                I laughed, “Humble too.”

                She got up, keeping hold of my hand; our palms giving off white light. She led me over to the reptile house, and pushed aside a guide who was thrusting pamphlets into our faces. In the first cage was a lethargic boa constrictor. Through Braydie’s eyes, I saw a shiver of chocolate brown cross the scales of his thick body. He was staring across the hall at a small prairie rattlesnake.

                I shook my head, “No way.”

                Braydie laughed. “They’re both snakes. What’s the problem?”

                “They’re different kinds of snakes.” I told her.

                “So? There are different kinds of humans, too.“ She pointed out. “And yet an African Pygmy and a Finnish Giant can get married and have kids.”

                “But this guy would eat her!” I exclaimed.

                “You think.” She said, reached over and tickling my ribs. I flinched and she laughed. “They live in different parts of the world, and so they have no idea what to make of one another. Maybe he woudn’t eat her. Maybe they’d have a bunch of tiny rattleboas.”

                I glanced back at the rattlesnake. She was lounging in her desert diorama, basking in the pseudo sunlight. I could see her Aura shimmer in the same overwhelming way that the bears’ had. She seemed to be indifferent to the boa’s feelings. Maybe she had no idea. I half smiled and snorted, “Rattleboas.”

                “Now, here’s another question: do you remember your parents?” Braydie asked, continuing with her inquisition.

                I shook my head. “They abandoned me at birth. I grew up in a shelter, and then…”

                “Then what?”

                I looked her in the eyes, and contemplated lying to her, but she would find out at some point, I was sure. And for some reason I trusted her, even more deeply than Barrick, who had been my sole parent and confidant. Until now.

                “I got adopted,” I admitted, “To the Craig family. They were expecting a baby when they adopted me, and by the time the baby was born…”

                “They stopped paying attention to you.” Braydie finished for me.

                I nodded. “So I left. I just ran away one day. They didn’t even look for me that long; six months at the most. And then I found Barrick.”

                “Hm. So you really never had a structured family life,” Braydie mused, “Ok, come on.”

                Next was the giraffe enclosure. There were two adults and one baby giraffe poking around a stand of trees in the center of the pen; the baby only looked to be a month or two old. A plaque mounted on the steel bars said that the baby was a female named Molly.

                “Isn’t she cute?” Braydie cooed. “Here, look!”

                She grasped my hand tighter than ever, and within a second, I could see an Aura connecting the mother and baby giraffe, though the baby was several feet away from her mother. I looked at Braydie for clarification, but she shrugged.

                “It only happens sometimes. I don’t know why. Even some human mothers connect with their babies like that. Most don’t. I think it has something to do with depression after giving birth, or not bonding with the baby right away.” She said, reaching through the bars, her hand outstretched.

                I looked around for a keeper that would yell at us, but at this time of morning, there was no one around. For a few minutes nothing happened; then Molly the baby giraffe curiously trotted over, her long spindly neck reaching out to sniff the proffered hand. When Molly’s nose touched Braydie’s fingertips, I felt a shudder run through my body. Then I saw the translucent shimmer of an alien Aura covering my own, along with Braydie’s. Molly was broadcasting her mother’s Aura over to us, through touch. Braydie lingered for another moment, and then pulled back, breaking the link. The baby giraffe looked at us in an adorably pouty way then trotted back over to her mother.

                “That was amazing.” I whispered.

                She leaned toward me and murmured, “Next question.”

                I chuckled once. “What?”

                “What’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

                I gestured to the giraffes. “This one’s climbing the charts. How about you?”

                “I’m the one asking questions, Mono.” She evaded. “Try this one: ever been to a rock concert?”

                “As if,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Barrick would bust a blood vessel.”

                Braydie laughed, “He really is like your Dad, isn’t he? He and Archie are so different; it’s hard to believe they used to live together.”

                “…in the days when dinosaurs walked the earth, right?” I asked.

                She shook her head at my silliness. “Never mind about that…so you’ve never been to a rock concert. Well, my show is Thursday night, and tonight is rehearsals. I missed yesterday.”

                I frowned, “How often do you practice?”

                “Well, I’m not on tour right now, so not as much as normal. And I’m not recording anything new for a couple of months at least.” She said, “But I still stretch my vocal chords every day.”

                I stared at her, “What qualifies as stretching?”

                She grinned at me mysteriously. “For that, we have to go to the aviary.”

                We walked down the sidewalk past the monkey house and the pony rides, where toddlers of two and three years old were clinging to the manes of some very distraught-looking ponies. The aviary was a large enclosure that was over seventy feet high to promote healthy flying skills of the birds that lived there. There were a few smaller enclosures for the birds of prey, but Braydie dragged me right into the section for songbirds.

                “The acoustics in here are great!” She exclaimed, pulling me through the door. On the other side, it was humid and damp, with lots of brush on either side of a winding dirt path, and a large pond that was divided in half by a wooden bridge. The first thing I noticed however, were the sounds of the birds. I’d never heard so many bird calls in one place before and though I couldn’t see very many, I could hear about five dozen of them, at least.

                Braydie let go of my hand abruptly and stood in the center of the dirt path, opened her mouth, and belted out a chord of pure, unadulterated sound that pierced my ears and made my skin erupt in goose bumps. She then quieted her voice and sang in a low, lilting voice, these words:

                I have a tiny place

                Where I go to trace

                The missing parts

                That I have heard

                Have flown out of my heart

                Like a mocking bird…

 

                She then turned and looked at me with wide eyes, as though she were expecting something. I was utterly dumbfounded. The sound quality on YouTube was crap; a piece of junk next to the voice of the angel that was standing in front of me. I couldn’t help myself: I began to clap.

                Braydie blushed, then shushed me, “You’ll scare the birds, fat head.”

                “Fat head?” I pined, and then I grinned, “That was amazing, you know.”

                “It would have to be, for the record company to sign me.” She explained. Her eyes turned down suddenly and she frowned. “I’m much better, really. There’s this song I’m singing tonight; it’s supposed to come out on my next album. It’s called ‘Happiness Has No Other Name’, but it stinks. The whole thing is wrong, and when I sing it, I sound like Britney Spears on pot.”

                I laughed, and then realized she was completely serious. “So…why can’t you fix it?”

                She rolled her eyes. “According to the label, it doesn’t need to be fixed. This is the direction, don’t you know; superstars in bikinis and rolling hips. The music doesn’t matter anymore. I swear, I’d like to just go out on stage one night in my sweatpants with my guitar and just belt out whatever pops into my head.”

                I smirked. “I don’t think they’d let you.”

                “Of course not.” She puffed her chest out and tucked her chin back, causing a double chin to form, and mocked; “’This isn’t Woodstock, you know!’”

                “Maybe you should do it on your own time.” I suggested.

                “That would be a good idea,” She agreed, “But the record company owns me. My image is what they sell, and if I’m not seen as this glamorous teen idol…well, there goes my job.”

                I nodded, then asked, “What about Archie?”

                “What about him?”

                I shrugged thinking of Barrick, and how we never wanted for anything, even when the bookstore was doing badly. “Is this what he wants you to do? I mean, is it part of your training, or is it because of the money?”

                “Both, I guess.” Braydie said, twirling a strand of hair around her thumb. “We wouldn’t be poor by any means if I stopped singing. But Archie likes for me to push myself in the Controlling area. See, I can meddle an audience with my voice; every artist can do that. But with me, I read their Auras and try to make it even better for them.”

                “Do you ever call him Master?” I asked.

                “Once or twice, but it just didn’t sound right. He really doesn’t care for it, actually.” Braydie replied thoughtfully. “I think he believes it’s a little demeaning for me.”

                “Oh.”

                “Why? Does Marcus like for you to use it?” She asked.

                 I nodded, “From seven to nine p.m.”

                She reached out and took my hand again, and then jerked her head toward the exit. When we emerged into the sunlight, two peacocks that had been roaming fanned their tails, throwing magnificent blues and greens into the air, their yellow/orange Auras offsetting the feathers.

                “Boys are such showoffs.” Braydie commented.

                I made a face, “Not true.”

                “Well, maybe not you.”She said after a second of thought.

                We walked hand in hand all around the zoo that morning, Braydie’s amazed and intrigued mood sliding over to me with every beat of her heart. I was elated in a way I never had been before. I felt as though I had never seen, smelled, heard or felt before; like I had just been born and crossed from a place of darkness into one of pure light. It was the best morning I had ever had.

Reviews

[Rose of Gondor]

Agreeing with Dark Aeris. I am addicted!!!

[Dark Aeris]

I'm addicted to your story..... so much so.... that when I read..that the next chapter was unpublished... I almost cried. Okay, maybe not that extreme but I was really saddened.

Keep up the awesome story d_(^__^)_b [person giving you two thumbs up if it wasn't apparent enough]