Chapter 1

23 March 1999

 

It was one of those dazzling spring days when one wished to be somehow twice as big to absorb more of the sun, inhale more of the flowery scent spread by the warm breeze, glory in the awakening world.

 

The beauty of the day was echoed by the laughter of children at the playground. Their playful taunts, yells and stomping little feet, all blended together, made a rhythmic noise, almost like music. Spring was like a child herself, joining in the dance around the lone house.

 

A solitary sparrow dared to approach the fence that encompassed the playground, but scurried on its way as one of the children ran into it calling “Base!”

 

Katelyn twitched as the fence vibrated under her grip. It was as if she had just come out of a trance. Her expression went from startled to temperate and then to sorrowful all in a space of a few seconds. She pulled the sides of her cardigan as if to protect herself from the cold, although the day was unusually sunny and warm.

 

“I rather think the back of Mrs. McKellar is the best hiding spot. But then, I would not be able to fit in the toy box, so I’m not the one to judge.”

 

Katelyn jumped at these words. She had not noticed the older man standing next to her at the spot that, she could swear, was empty just moments ago.

 

“Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to startle you.”

 

It took a moment for the words to reach her, as the surprise took away from her ability to grasp or act. Finally the man’s mild unblinking gaze prompt her into speech.

 

“No, that is quite all right. My mind seems to have wandered off somewhere. I didn’t notice you standing there.”

 

The older man smiled kindly. This put her at ease, somewhat.

 

“I agree with you. Mrs. McKellar does cast a rather large shadow. It would have been my first choice too,” she added.

 

“One does miss the light-heartedness and the agility of youth. A long time ago, I would be eager to join in the game, but now I can only enjoy it for the delight it brings to the little ones. Are you visiting someone?”

 

Katelyn tugged the cardigan around herself more firmly. “Uh, no. No, I was just passing by and, well, I stayed to, uh, watch the game.” She was aware that her response was far from convincing. What with the stumbling on her words and the inexplicable familiarity with Mrs. McKellar, who ran the orphanage.

The man smiled lightly, but stayed quiet. He observed Katelyn as she pulled on her cardigan so fiercely that it threatened to unravel at the seams. His gaze, while kind, was piercing, and it made her feel uneasy and drawn in. There was something in those grey eyes. Something ageless and wise, and not a little daunting.

 

After a moment that seemed to drag on for ages, she spoke. “And who are you here to visit?”

 

The man’s smile broadened. “Oh, I am here to see my best friend.” He turned and called, without raising his voice “Emma?”

 

On the other side of the court a small girl peeked out from between two older boys who were wrestling for the ball. Noticing her, they stepped aside smiling, the taller one letting the scruffier one take the battered-looking sphere.

 

The child’s long white-blonde hair had been platted in loose knots down her back. Her big blue eyes seemed to take up most of her face and they gazed fixedly at the pair outside the fence.

 

As their eyes met, Katelyn was overcome by the strangest notion that the child was there all this time, watching her. And she knew that angelic face all too well. She had visited the orphanage repeatedly, with increasing frequency, in the past year. And, somehow, she always ended up observing the little girl, Emma, more than the other kids, always looking out for her when she wasn’t in sight. But never before did Emma gaze at her as she did now, though she sometimes had a suspicion that the child was aware of her and saw her just the same.

 

Emma walked purposefully towards them, her too big flower-embedded denim dress oddly stiff around her. She smiled broadly as she drew closer and ran the last few meters yelling “Levis! Levis, I knew you were coming!”

 

The man stretched his hand through the fence. “Did I fail to surprise you again?” he asked in mock disappointment.

 

“I knew for five nights and half a day!” said Emma proudly. She laid her cheek on Levis’ palm.

 

“Oh, I can’t hide anything from you. You’re just too smart for me.”

 

Emma inflated a little. Her dress showed signs of a small human shape underneath, before she exhaled.

 

“Emma, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

 

The girl gave Levis a knowing look and smiled at Katelyn, who watched the exchanges between the two with some confusion, feeling like an intruder.

Emma’s bright expression changed to a puzzled one. “But, it’s not time to go yet. There supposed to be leaves on the ground. And you’re not weving your gween coat.” She spoke to Katelyn, who felt utterly bemused.

 

“I like your gween coat.” Emma added. “Can I weav it?”

 

Katelyn felt at a loss for words. Blinking rapidly, she looked from Emma to the man standing next to her, expecting some sort of help or translation.

 

Levis spoke to Emma with a reproachful smile. “Now, what did we say about that, Emma? Let’s not confuse our new friend.”

 

Turning towards Katelyn he said. “Ms...

 

“Katelyn”, she said, finally faced with a question she knew the answer to.

 

“It’s a pleasure, Katelyn . My name is Levis and this enchanting little creature is Emma.”

 

Emma curtsied and giggled. Katelyn smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you, Emma.”

 

“So, weve not going?” Emma asked looking at Katelyn expectantly.

 

It was Levis who answered. “Not yet, Emma. We will wait for those leaves. You remember.”

 

“Yes” said Emma, a little crestfallen. “But then we can still celeblate my blrthday” she said brightening up considerably. “I will be a ballelina. And you will be a faivy. And we’ll make a castle!” She told Katelyn jumping with excitement.

 

“Oh, well, that sounds fun. And how old are you?” said Katelyn.

 

Emma opened her palm revealing all the fingers. “Five!” She exclaimed. “But I ev more.” she added, a puzzled look creasing her brow. She looked questioningly at Levis who nodded and smiled. “Five it is, my dear.”

 

“Five.” She confirmed to Katelyn, who smiled back.

 

“Come in. Miss Mekellel is in good mood. Father Fatty brought scones and she had hunwed.”

 

“Father Faddy.” added Levis, correcting her.

 

Emma shrugged and yelled “C’mon” running hurriedly towards the gate, with her denim dress still reluctant to obey.

 

“Would you care to join us, Katelyn? Emma would love it if you did.”

 

Katelyn smiled and nodded. As she walked towards the squeaky gate, she thought about the green coat she bought the previous day, put away safely in her wardrobe, waiting for a cold, leafy fall day.

***

THE DEPARTURE

 

Present time.

 

David took Emma’s hand gently as a way of comfort, but also to remind her that he was there. This was the first time he’d ever had to do that, remind her. Because she didn’t seem to notice or, dare he even think it, care anymore. David was never noticed by anyone, apart from his family. He never despaired over it; it was just how things were, how he was. Only when he met Emma did he realise how much he craved that attention. And somehow he knew that he would never find that with anyone else, because there was something special, something more in how they were. And, selfish as it may seem in this moment, he could only obsess about her pulling away and the crushing fear he felt that she might leave him behind.

 

Emma didn’t seem be aware of David’s hand in hers. She didn’t seem to notice much of anything these days. Twice she had to glance down at herself to see if she wore appropriate clothing, as she forgot what she had put on in the blur of the morning. And more times than not she was trapped in a conversation with someone whose name she didn’t know, let along any other personal details that she could enquire about. She ended up using the generalised questions like ‘How’s the family?’ Once, quite accidentally, she asked a woman how her kids were. The woman did not have any children, but she did however have kittens and, luckily, she regarded them the same as if she gave birth to them.

 

But Emma didn’t care, really. She participated in the proceedings as one would participate in a rainfall while stationed behind the closed window. Even being the centre of attention didn’t faze her and that was, most certainly, unusual. It was like her new resolve acted as a shield against everything from the outside. If she weren’t so consumed with the mission she had embarked upon, she would find this rather interesting.

 

“Emma?”

 

David nudged her slightly, interrupting the silent process of listing every item she packed in the small burgundy travel case. She paused only long enough to release the two stubs intertwined with her fingers. A fleeting feeling of being watched by everyone at the sight washed over her, but in the next moment it was gone and she was back to her reverie.

 

David watched her go back into herself, so distant that he wanted to yell out and call her back. He was relieved when the crowd parted and queued silently. People squeezed Emma’s shoulder or give her a consoling tap on the arm as they passed. Some of them even gave David a compassionate glance. As the last of them disappeared behind the wrought iron gate, he turned towards her, apprehension weighing on him. She was staring at the ground, quite unfazed by the procession of people that had just went passed her, or by David’s desperate intent to speak with her.

 

“God, Emma, I’m trying so hard not to do the cliché thing and ask you how you were or tell you that I’m here for you if you need to let it all out, but I don’t know what else to do.”

 

The words just poured out, as if he had no choice in it. “I feel f*****g helpless. And I know that how I feel is the last thing you need to hear about right now, but you haven’t spoken to me in three days. And I can feel something’s happening. You need to include me, Emma. You need to tell me.” He wanted to shake her. “Tell me!” he almost growled.

 

David’s words registered with Emma, but his anxiety could not reach her as she observed the two faceless men shovelling the fresh dug dirt and throwing it on the polished tops of her parents’ caskets. She felt calm and determination washing over her at the site of this mechanical, dispassionate act.

 

Emma looked up, getting somewhat taken aback by David’s contorted expression. “I’m leaving.” she said simply, in a monotone.

 

“What?” asked David, stunned.

 

“Tonight.” she continued in the same detached manner. ”Abel will take care of everything. I’m flying out tonight, have a car waiting in London”

 

“What?” interrupted David. “London? Really, Emma? And did you have any intention on sharing this titbit of information with me?”

 

He took a deep breath, trying very hard to compose himself.

 

“Look”, he continued in a much calmer voice, “I understand you’re going through a lot right now, but this is not the time to make rash decisions. Let’s just go home and talk about it.” he put his arm around her.

 

Emma watched him for a second as she was going to consider what he was saying, but when she spoke, it was as if he hadn’t interrupted her at all. “There’s some of your stuff in my room. You can get it whenever. Just use your key.”

 

David was about to interject, but then stopped himself as he met Emma’s gaze which was, far from remote, as acute and stern as he might have seen it only a few precious times in all the years he’d known her.

 

“This is not grief. I am not in denial. I know exactly what’s happened here. My parents are dead. I’ve just buried them. Not for the first time, I might add. Please don’t insult me by treating me like a sick person. I have made my decision and it is final.”

 

She spoke slowly and clearly, not looking away from him, almost without blinking. It was eerily obvious to David that there was no dissuading her and that any attempt at a discussion might only widen the wedge between them.

 

He stared at her stony expression, thinking hard. Several moments went by as they stood gazing at each other as a couple of stone statues, not unlike the marble angels decorating the surrounding graves.

 

Finally, in a surrendering kind of manner, David broke the silence.

“Then I’m coming with you.” he said.

***

 

Jonathan was pacing the two square meters of free space of his small, dark hotel room. It would soon be dawn and he will be heading into enemy territory. Oddly enough, that wasn’t the reason he was up in the middle of the night. He’s been getting ready for that for years and, far from being afraid, he felt eager for it.

 

No, he was up for a completely different reason. It was a dream. He was walking along the lone street that turned into a thick, dark woods. Oddness that often happened and was treated as normality in a dream state.  He was quite alone. The only sounds were of his feet on the leaf covered forest ground and the soft pounding of his heart. There was no light apart for the moonlight. His saunter through the woods was blandly uneventful, apart for the nagging feeling that he was supposed to be somewhere. The desperate sensation grew so strong, turning his leisurely walk into a sprint that ended up in a painful twitching of his muscles, finally yanking him awake. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his aching calves, noting that they never hurt this badly after his daily runs. The pain subsided quickly enough, but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the dream evoked. What was more, he seemed to grow increasingly sorrowful, the longer he dwelled on it.

 

Grabbing a battered looking tennis ball off the small bed cupboard, he threw himself on the bed. It’s just nerves, or something, he thought. The tennis ball he threw hit the opposite wall and ricochet of the ceiling before he caught it. It barely made contact with his hand before it flew towards the wall again.

 

Or, maybe, he thought, throwing the ball much harder this time, it was that he was annoyed. He spent the last seven years of his life preparing for battle. He was the best, the perfect soldier; committed, tough and impeccably thorough. There wasn’t a test he didn’t ace, whether it came to endurance, strength, talent or loyalty.

 

Why then, he threw a hard curve ball at the right side wall, did he get a babysitter? Didn’t he prove himself enough by following every order he was ever given without question? By committing the last seven years of his life to this? Didn’t he prove his competence and his loyalty time and time again?

 

He observed the ball’s progress as it rebounded of the walls and ceiling, without losing heart. Maybe he would feel better about it if his shadow wasn’t the last person he wanted by his side in this precarious time.

 

He got off the bed, forgetting about the ball still bouncing off the walls in a high speed, comical kind of way. Walking towards the window, his hand brushed the side of an old brown television set which lid up instantly, flashing static, before it died with a sad little, moan like, sound. Jonathan paused for a second, glancing back at the ball which fell down, mid bounce, sprang feebly off the bed and rolled down the floor towards the wardrobe.

 

“You know, lurking is a bit redundant when I can sense you coming a mile away” Jonathan said in an offhand way to a seemingly empty room.

 

A moment later, the door of the room opened and young man entered.

“I was not lurking. I merely came to investigate the noise. Were you trying to wake the dead?” His appearance suggested that he was a boy of mid teens, but the expression on his face and his voice as he spoke, contradicted this. “You certainly succeeded in waking me up.”

 

“Come now, Topher, the battle hasn’t even started yet and you’re already adding yourself to the dead count.”

Topher chuckled, unamused. “Don’t worry, brother, I don’t have any intention of dying. Ever.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the world would miss your presence.” Jonathan stepped away from the window, stretching as he did. “Just do me a favour and drop the brother act, it’s only us here.” He couldn’t quite keep his tone light as he said this.

 

Topher’s smile widened. “Oh, dear brother, wherever we go, we cannot escape what we are. That is the nature of our bond.”

“Spare me the lesson.” said Jonathan, annoyed.

 

“You could do with a good refresher.” said Thoper smiling. “Blood is thicker than water. You can leave the hive, but you’re still black and yellow.”

 

“Only it’s not exactly blood that ties us.” Interjected Jonathan quietly.

 

“It’s an expression. What bounds us is much, much greater than mere genetics.”

 

“Please don’t get into a philosophical monologue, I’m tired. ‘ said Jonathan.    

 

“Testy, aren’t we?” said Topher infuriatingly. “I’ll leave you. Just refrain from banging stuff of the walls, it doesn’t make for a restful night.”

 

Jonathan didn’t respond. Moments later he heard the doors close. The tension between his shoulders loosened a little and he threw himself on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He got the dream out of his mind for a moment. That was the extent of dislike he felt towards Topher. Or, at least, what Topher represented. He could not disregard Topher as much as he couldn’t disregard himself. They were interlinked, no matter how much that bothered Jonathan. He shifted to his right, exhaling. That sorrowful feeling started to creep back into him. It was almost like he had lost something. Something vital.

 

Feelings like this were a novelty seven years ago, when he just met Aaron, but since then he has learned to identify them and separate himself to an extent. He could still remember so clearly the day Mr Barnsley, his father’s driver, dropped him off to Westminster boarding school. He was miserable, and not only because his parents did not come to see him off, but because his nanny; a woman who took care of him since he was a two month old infant, was dismissed. He would never again see the person that was closest to him, who he loved, and who loved him, more than even his own parents. He vowed silently that he would never forgive them and that he will go and look for her as soon as he was out of this place.

 

Mr Barnsley helped him with his suitcases. As they walked through the grounds and up the stairs to Jonathan’s new dormitory, they passed students in green uniforms with yellow stripes on their neckties. It looked like poisonous serpents were wrapped around their necks and Jonathan was suddenly overwhelmed by a choking sensation. Everything about that place gave him a feeling of confinement and these kids were his fellow inmates, with those ugly ties for shackles.

 

Mr Barnsley carried the suitcases in a dormitory and nodded his goodbye. Jonathan stared helplessly at four beds in front of him, clueless to which one of the identical bedspreads was his. After a few moments, he decided on the one furthest from the entrance, ready to surrender it if anyone claimed it before he did. He sat down, marking that the bed was too hard, and stared blankly at the simple looking cupboard. He wondered about the roommates that would be joining him. If they would be his age or older, excited or as dejected as he was about staying here. 

They would probably know other kids in here, maybe even have friends. He had never had any, apart from Dotty, his nanny. And Toe, the golden retriever he got for his sixth birthday; who got the unfortunate name as he kept excitedly chasing after Jonathan to lick his toes. The dog went missing a few months ago; something that still made Jonathan’s throat constrict, which was the reason he avoided thinking about it. But, sitting here, in this grey, lone room, he could not help thinking that he was steadily loosing everyone he loved. His parents weren’t always as absent. On the contrary, they used to play with him and go camping, take him to play dates and hug him... They used to tell him that they loved him every day. But, that was before. Before they changed and became busy and irritable and annoyed by him. And Toe; he was such a happy dog. He never left the huge backyard, even if the fence was open, what was scarcely more then minutes at the time. Why would he had run away? Had left Jonathan? The illogic of it still escaped Jonathan’s understanding. But, throughout all the disappointments and heartbreaks, there was always Dotty. Unchangeable, loving and always so solidly present. She was, at least, always there for him. Until now.

 

Jonathan felt tears stinging his eyes, but he fought them back. He didn’t want someone to come in and find him sobbing. Instead, he tried to redirect his thoughts to something trivial, less likely to evoke emotion. He thought about the uniform that he would have to wear. Green wasn’t his favourite colour. Neither was the fact that he would be walking around in a sea of lookalikes. He found the idea of everyone dressing the same stupid; having been tutored at home and never having to conform to such rules and customs.

 

“Hello Jonathan.”

 

A male voice interrupted his inner musings. Jonathan turned towards the door to face the source of it and saw a slender young man standing at the entrance, gazing fixedly at Jonathan.

 

Jonathan, starting, rose off the bed. “Hello.” he said in response. Thinking that this might be one of his roommates, he added “Is this your room?”

 

“No.” the other boy answered. His expression was unchanged. He was exceptionally pale, what was even more emphasised by his jet-black hair.

 

“Oh” said Jonathan. “How, how do you know my name, then?”

 

The boy observed him with some interest before he answered. “Don’t you know mine?”

 

Jonathan felt confused. “No, sorry, I don’t.” he said uncomfortably.

 

The boy looked at him for another moment. His dark eyes seemed to bore into Jonathan. “Really.” he said, more as an amused statement than a question.

 

“Sorry.” Mumbled Jonathan, not sure if he should feel embarrassed or annoyed.

 

“My name is Aaron” the older boy said and he walked closer to where Jonathan was standing. He stretched out his hand to shake Jonathan’s.

 

Jonathan took it, still confused. “What are you doing here, if this is not your room? Do you go here?” he asked.

 

Aaron took a moment to appraise Jonathan before he answered. Jonathan found this to be rather disconcerting. What was more, those black eyes made him feel like they were burning a hole through his scull and exposing all of his thoughts. He fidgeted uncomfortably.

 

“I am here for you, Jonathan.” Aaron answered unexpectedly.

 

“For...What?” said Jonathan, taken aback. “Do you mean someone sent you? Do you have a message for me?”

 

Again, Aaron looked at him, without saying a word. Jonathan didn’t know what to make of this. He had a curious notion like he was supposed to know this unusual boy. Even stranger was the feeling that he wanted to somehow please him.

 

“I do have a message.” said Aaron. “Of sorts.” he added.

Jonathan waited quietly for the message, but Aaron said “Is this the bed you’ve chosen?”

 

“Uh, yes. I mean, I don’t know if it belongs to somebody else. I don’t mind, really.” said Jonathan.

 

“It is yours if you want it. Do you want it?” Aaron asked.

 

“Well, yes, I suppose.” Jonathan answered, his confusion mounting.

 

“Then yours it shall be. That is, if you’re quite sure you want it.”

 

Jonathan felt completely lost in this conversation. He had a feeling he’d missed something, some crucial point. “I don’t understand what you mean.” he said.

 

“Do you want to stay here?” Aaron asked.

 

“Not really, but I don’t have much choice, do I?” said Jonathan.

 

“What if I told you that you could do what ever you wanted? Would you stay then?”

 

“Well, no. I wouldn’t, I suppose. But, I can’t so...”

 

Aaron watched him for a moment in that unnerving way. Jonathan, his head filled with a mixture of wary, annoyed and even slightly awed thoughts, firmly decided not to voice any of them in the stretch of silence.

 

“There is always a choice for you, Jonathan. You can leave if you choose to.” Said Aaron.

 

“How do you reckon?” asked Jonathan.

 

“Because I have given you the choice.” Answered Aaron simply.

 

This seemed to perplex Jonathan even more. The feeling turned instantly to frustration. “And who are you? The headmaster?” he spat.

 

Aaron almost smiled. “I am a…friend.” He said slowly. “I had hoped for an instance of recognition, but alas, I am to be disappointed. No matter, that can be rectified in due course.”

 

Even if he wanted to, Jonathan would not be able to find an appropriate response to this. This boy was either insane, or Jonathan was just too stupid to get the joke or whatever it was that Aaron was going for.

 

“Now, tell me. Do you wish to leave this place and come with me?” said Aaron.

 

“And go where?” asked Jonathan.

 

“Home, of course.” Aaron said, but his lips did not move. He answered, impossibly, inside Jonathan’s head.  And, just as the realisation of this impossibility dawned on Jonathan, he saw Aaron glancing at his suitcases, which rose off the floor and soared towards the entrance of the dormitory. At the same time, two strong sensations overwhelmed Jonathan. One was the complete shock of seeing something as impossible as floating luggage. And the other, that equally added to the shock, of certainty that by following Aaron, meant being home.