Second Water

Paths cross

Max

 

“Curses,” I muttered, fumbling around in my backpack. “This rain came so fast. Well, at least Grandma gave me an umbrella just in case.”  Ducking under an overhanging canopy of a closing shop, I opened my umbrella. I tried to dry the books the best I could. Oh well, I thought, wrapping them in my gym clothes. I’ll dry them when I get  home.

As I walked down the emptying streets, I listened to the patter of rain. It was a gentle sound, calming. I love the rain. It always casts a new look on the world and when it leaves, the world changes. Rain is nature’s gardening hose, watering all the flowers so they can blossom again, more beautiful than the last. I held my hand out, watching the clear drops slither down from my palm to my wrist. It hard to imagine that under this same rain, I thought, someone is hurting.

Crash! I turned to see a large box of apples topple over. “Hey!” The indignant shop owner roared after a girl. “Watch where you’re going!”

She didn’t seem to hear. She kept running, head down. Her wave of blue-black hair flew behind her. I stepped forward and she ran straight into me.

“Whoa,” I gasped at the impact. “Be careful.” My hand fell on top of her shoulder.

She flinched at my touch. Then she turned her head away, hiding her face and sending several water drops flying. Her head almost passed my shoulder. She tore away from my grasp and ran off into the rolling mist. I gazed after her. I ran a hand through my dark auburn hair. That was strange. I thought. In this rain, she should’ve been soaked, but she was only barely wet. I watched her run through the wet streets. She didn’t seem to be paying attention to where she was going. Then I noticed she was running towards a large puddle. I tried to call out, but it was lost in the rumble of thunder. I watched helplessly as she ran through the almost ankle-deep water. What I saw was something amazing. The moment her boot reached the surface of the water, the liquid jumped out of her way, clearing a dry path for her.

I gaped after her retreating form. Shaking my head, I thought, I must’ve been seeing things. I went to the puddle. The water was slowly slipping back. Even the rain seemed to avoid the footprints. I looked at where she disappeared. What a strange girl. I ran my hand through my hair again, a habit my mother has tried to break me of. I feel like I’ve seen her before... I shook my head and made my way home.

As I walked through the streets, I found that her path was dry, footprints still glimmering in the faint light. I followed it into a forest near the temple, not far from my home, until I lost her trail. I searched around and almost gave up when I felt a little tug in my heart. It was soft and directed me towards the left. I went in and out of the forest, feeling the tug become stronger. Finally, it stopped. And I saw her. Her wave of blue-tinted hair draped down her back and her head rested on her knees. Beside her was the bag she was carrying. I kneeled next to her. She seemed to be crying.

“Hey,” I said, leaning down. “Are you alright?”

Her head jerked up, eyes wide in fear. Her dark blue met my dark grey. She is beautiful, was the first thought that came to mind. Her face was perfectly shaped, angular yet soft. Thin lips were rosy and nose was straight. Her hair was a mess. Even though she was crying, she looked like an angel. A fearful angel. Dark eyes searched my face.

“Are you ok?” I asked again. I reached out to take her hand.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried, but it was too late. My fingers fell lightly on the back of her hand. It was rough, which surprised me. The silence that followed was only broken by the patter of rain against the leaves. Her fearful eyes suddenly changed. She drew her hand away. She covered the back of her hand with her fingers, stroking the place where I touched her.

“Who are you?” she whispered. If I wasn’t so close, the soft sound that escaped her lips would’ve been lost in the roll of thunder and rain.

I smiled. “I’m Max.”

But she didn’t seem to be listening. She was muttering under her breath. I caught brief phrases such as “different,” “melt,” and “dead.” She looked up at me again. “Why aren’t you…?”

I felt very confused. “Pardon?”

“Why aren’t you dead?”

“Am I supposed to be?” I retorted before I could help myself. A slight twinge of annoyance clawed at me.

“Yes,” she said, dark eyes intent. There was an awkward silence.

I bit my tongue to fight back another rude answer. Who is this girl? Why does she look like she wants me dead? I don’t even know her! I stopped. I put a finger over my mouth, thinking. Now that I think about it, I thought, people have been talking about this one girl…I racked my brains trying to remember. Jayden had described her as a dark angel, with flowing dark blue hair. What was her name again…?

“Amaya!” I cried, finally remembering the name that I had heard over and over again.

She jumped. She back away a little, almost afraid of what I would do.

“So you’re that girl everyone had been talking about,” I said. “Amaya Iceheart.”

Her rosy lips turned in a slight frown. “It’s not my fault that those guys find me so irresistible.”

I held up my hands. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’ve just heard a lot about you.”

She turned away.

“Say, what are you doing out here alone?” I asked, glancing around.

No response.

“Do you live near here?” I asked. When she shook her slightly wet head, I continued, “Come over a while.”

She scanned me over before answering, hesitantly, “Is it alright?”

I nodded. “It’s fine. My mom is out, as always, and my grandma is visiting a friend for a week. No siblings.” I added.

“What about your father?”

I shook my head. “He died when I was young.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured sympathetically.

I smiled. “It’s ok. I didn’t really know him and Mom handled it well.” Actually, she was quite happy, I thought to myself. “Here, take this.” I took off my light jacket. I draped it over her shoulders. I noticed how weak she looked.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, glancing up at me.

“Me? No,” I assured her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her against my side. She seemed uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything. She picked up her bag. Her eyes became clouded. I recognized it as the expression of deep thinking. Maybe that’s why, I thought, she has stopped jumping at my touch. Through the lightning and rain, we made our way back to my house.

When the backdoor slid to a close behind me, Amaya gazed around, dark eyes glowing.

“I’m home!” I called out as I slipped off my shoes.

She gave me another funny look. “I thought you said no one was home.”

I scratched my head, embarrassed. “I said it without thinking. Habit, I guess.” I switched on a light and walked down the wooden hallway. I pushed aside the door on my right. Gestured for her to go on in, I went upstairs. I dragged a warm blanket and some of my mother’s spare clothes, handing them to her. The clothes were a little loose on her, but seemed to be warm enough.

As she wrapped the blanket around herself, remembering my manners, I went to the kitchen. As I heated some warm water, I called out, “Would you like something to drink? Tea?”

“T-Thanks,” she said.

Dropping the small tea bags into the hot water, I carried the tray over to the small table. I handed her the steaming cup and received an embarrassed smile in return.

I leaned on the table, watching her. “I’ve noticed something,” I started.

Her sharp blue eyes gazed up from the brim of the mug. They asked me to continue.

I thought before answering. “You see, I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you. Nothing too bad, I promise,” I added hastily, in response to her raising a slender eyebrow. “And I’ve been observing your…behaviors…and something struck me. People had been talking about your… reluctance to be touched by others. I’ve been seeing that. I was just wondering that you could…” my voice faded out, my unfinished sentence suspended.

She set down her mug. “First,” she said, leaning forward a little, “you must promise not to speak of this in front of others.”

“Of course,” I said.

Her piercing eyes stared into mine. I could almost hear her mind running with thoughts. I just calmly gazed back. Finally, she leaned back. “Do you have a plant?”

“Yeah, I have bamboo.”

“Ok, bring it here,” she commanded.

When I set the leafy branch in front of her, her gloves faded away into nothingness. If that surprised me, it was nothing to what she did next. With a delicate hand, she lightly brushed a healthy green leaf. The color began to fade as green fire traveled up through her finger. Cracks like those of a fragile glass pot appeared on its the metallic green skin. Small chips began break off, little shards of browning jade.

My eyes widened. I knew I was witnessing something wonderful, yet so deathly dangerous. I was entranced and couldn’t look away. Then, as she pressed with a little more pressure, the leaf became crinkled like a crumpled paper. Finally, there was a loud crack and a blackened stone in the shape of a leaf thumped against the wooden table.

There was a span of silence. At first I couldn’t move. I could only just stare at the black stone that lay on the wood. Only moments ago, it had been a ripe green and perfectly healthy. Then, right before my eyes, it went beyond death.

Her gloves returned and enclosed her fingers. She adjusted them, avoiding my eyes. “I’ve had this power, among others, since the day I was created.”

I struggled to find my voice. “W-What are you?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” she said, eyes still avoiding mine. “All I know is that I am not meant to live among these people. Everything that I am is a weapon to destroy their kind. My beauty for luring them in. My entrancing eyes so they cannot run away. My poisonous skin and lips to drink the very fire that keeps them alive. My serpents? To protect myself. Heh,” she laughed humorlessly, “as if I needed to protect myself. I need life-fire less than they do yet I have all the tools to get them easily. I am a monster, a demon, a devil. I live to kill and kill to live.”

She finally looked at me. Her eyes shone with hope, “But you’re different.”

I stopped to take all this in. “Let me try again,” I said.

She held up a hand. I cautiously reached out and touched her palm with mine. The only thing at happened was warmth spreading from her hand to mine.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

I just smiled. “So are you.” I took my hand away.

She felt her palm with her other fingers hesitantly. “Who are you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we go through this already?” When she continued to look at me expectantly, I leaned back and scratched my head. “My name is Matthew Hawking, but I go by Max…um…I…I am sixteen years old…”

She nodded, expression like a little girl urging her grandmother in a story to go on.

“Um…my birthday is July 8^th…”

“Oh! Maybe people born in July are immune to me!”

“Huh? Probably not. A good portion of my grade are summer children. I don’t think the month is what makes me immune to you.”

Her shoulders sagged a little. “Hmm…” She gestured to continue.

“I…like to play sports?”

“What kind?”

“Swimming and―”

“Oh! Maybe swimmers are immune to me since I can control water, too.”

“You can what?”

“I can control water,” she said firmly. She eyed my surprised that I couldn’t hide. “With all that happened tonight,” she said, “you don’t believe I have power over water?”

“I do!” I said quickly. “I just…want to see for myself…”

She closed her eyes, placing her hands on her lap. A faint silver light emitted from around her hands. Water appeared from her back and hovered beside her, twisting and twirling. Then all of the little drops formed into a serpent with glowing yellow eyes. Baring its obviously lethal fangs, its pupil-less eyes glared at me.

“This is Kenda,” she said. Her blue eyes became blue-grey. “She is my chief snake.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the creature of water. Kenda ignored me and, while makings quiet hissing noises, turned her head in every direction as if examining the room.

“How does that work?” I asked. “I mean, where does the water come from?”

“My theory is that I, unlike humans, have life-water instead of life-fire. When I drink life-fire, it becomes a liquid the moment it touches my lips. The life-fire, now life-water, is soaked into my body to keep me alive. Any access is used to heighten my powers.” She stroked Kenda’s head. Kenda nuzzled against her hand. “Kenda wasn’t as big when I was created. It was only thanks to the water in the tank I was kept in that I was able to cause the damage that I did.”

“So,” I said slowly, “if there is water near you, you can use it as well as the life-water you have with you?”

“Within a certain range,” she amended. “Yes, I can.”

“Wow,” was I could say. I loosened my tie a little.

Amaya closed her eyes again. Kenda exploded into a cloud of water drops and was absorbed back into her body.

“Alright,” she said, eyes back to dark sapphire. “Onward with the interview.”

“Where do I start?”

“Anywhere.”

“Way to be specific,” I joked. “Let’s see…I can play the piano―”

“Maybe piano players are immune to me because they are more coordinated!”

“What? Nah, I doubt it…”

The conversation went on late into the night. She pushed me to elaborate on every insignificant little detail of my existence. When she heard something, she would smile a little and say that that little thing was what made me immune to her. But I would shake my head and tell her that there were a lot of people like that. She would pause, then start back up again.

It wasn’t until 2 am when she finally let up after the very detailed interview. Taking the empty cups away, I went into the kitchen to refill them. When I came back, she was gone. A shuffling from the front door told me she was there.

She sat on the edge of the wooden floor, slipping her shoes on.

“Hey,” I said, “where are you going?”

“Back to the tree,” she replied, not looking up and tying the muddy laces.

I was shocked. “What? Don’t you have anywhere to stay?”

Her dark azure hair waved as she shook her head. She stood up and, facing me, bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait,” I said, catching her wrist. “Stay with me. If you’d like.” I added hastily.

Her expression became incredulous. “What? So, Amaya Iceheart is going to stay at a guy’s house. You’re going to get killed when people find out.”

“I’ll survive,” I laughed. “Really, it’s fine. You can stay in my mother’s room. She has extra clothes you could wear.” I turned away, gazing out of the side window. “It’s dangerous to be alone out there.”

I glanced at her. Her sapphire eyes gazed deeply into my grey ones. The silence was only broken by the lightening rain outside. Then a gentle smile slid across her face. Her two hands enveloped mine. “Thank you,” she whispered, still watching me.

“It’s alright,” I returned, grinning. “C’mon,” I led her hand softly to the stairs. “I’ll show you to your room.”

I guided her down the hallway and slid open a door. Clicking on the light on the wall, I moved aside to show her.

“Wow,” she said, gazing around. She stepped cautiously into the room and inspected every fine detail of the creamy room. “Wow.”

She ran her hands against the milky walls, mahogany table in the middle of the room, bookshelves, and vases. Nothing escaped her touch. As she soaked in everything, I pulled down a futon from a rack and laid it out on the ground for her. I pushed open a closet. “You can find clothes here to change into,” I told her. “And the bathroom is down the hall on the left.”

She nodded, absent-mindedly and now examining a painting on the wall.

I beamed at her amazement and stepped out of the room. “Well,” I said, pulling the door shut, “good night―”

A hand slipped between the door and frame. “If it isn’t asking too much,” her shy voice said from inside, “could you stay with me? It’s just that it’s a new place…”

I was a little surprised to hear no embarrassment in her voice. Smiling, I touched her hand. “Of course,” I said. “Change first. Then I’ll stay with you.”

Her hand retreated back into the room with a “Thank you”. I closed the door and leaned against the wall. So much has happened tonight, I thought to myself. Hours ago, I was in school. Then, in the rain, I met Amaya. Things were different. What about me makes me immune to her? I’ve never met her before. There must be something that I am not aware of. I wonder what it might be…Minutes ticked by and the door hadn’t opened.

What’s taking her so long? I wondered. I decided to check on her. Knocking quietly, I said as I pushed open the door, “Amaya? I’m coming in. Are you alright?”

She was sitting on the ground, wearing a pair of light blue sleeping pants and shirt. Her head was on her arms that rested on the low table, dark hair like a pool with frozen waves. Kneeling at her side, I saw her sapphire eyes were closed. The even breathing confirmed that she was already asleep.

I smiled and shook my head. “You idiot,” I murmured, “at least sleep on the bed that I prepared.” Pulling the blanket onto her shoulders, I clicked off the lights and left a door a crack.

Slumping on a soft leather chair in my room, I took an exaggerated breath and sighed deeply. So much has happened… I ran my hand through the strands of my hair. Loosening my tie, my grey eyes rested upon the wet books on the floor. I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t get to dry my books yet.

That’s ok, I thought as I unbuttoned my shirt off and hung it on the back of the chair, today’s Friday. I’ll just leave them out.

 

Author's Note

Any suggestions?