Starseed (30 page)

“He died,” Kaila said.

“I know,” he said.

“You do?

“Yes. I saw. I was here.”

“What do you mean you were here?”

Kaila grew enraged having him witness such a deeply personal moment. And that he might have been feeding—

“It was,” Jordyn said, “the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“What do you mean?” How could any of this be beautiful?

“I watched you. You were so strong. I was proud of you.”

Kaila quieted.

“And I watched through the end. Saw what you saw. I saw his essence lift, saw his energy, felt his . . . I don’t know what to call it.”

“Spirit?” Kaila said.

“But I saw it,” Jordyn said. “Same as you. Saw this force lift out of his body. And he had more energy and peace than he ever did alive. I know you saw that too.”

They were still.

“And I saw you telling everyone to be quiet about their hurt so that he could concentrate on going toward that light. I saw that light. I saw it through you. And I saw it in you. And I realized . . .” He drew her to him. “That I don’t know many things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if we weren’t told or if, oh Kaila, I don’t know if there’s a mind-screen on us too.”

“I don’t want to hear about your damned mind-screens,” Kaila shouted, pushing him away. Her rage burst up like a rocket. “You could have saved him and you didn’t. You were too concerned with me abducting people for your shitty program. Get out!”

“No Kaila, please listen,” Jordyn begged. “What I’m trying to say is that we may be controlled as much as we control.”

“I don’t care,” Kaila shrieked. “You deserve it.”

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “Please be with me.” He clung to her. “Please, I beg you. No talk. Just a moment to hold each other.”

Weakened from despair and grief, Kaila relented and let him hold her. She wanted to pretend it was like before . . . before she knew. She wanted to kiss him and kill him.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. She nuzzled her head against the crook of his shoulder. He lifted his thigh atop hers. How perfectly their bodies fit together. Why couldn’t things be good? Why did Paw Paw have to die?

Then, Kaila had an idea.

“Hey,” she said. “You remember when Toby did the hologram on Mike and fixed his leg?”

“Mmmm,” he said. “Oh, you feel so good, Kaila. I’ve missed you.”

“Can you fix my Paw Paw like you fixed Mike? Can you bring him back?”

Jordyn stiffened. “This is way more than repairing the body. This has to do with something that I don’t understand.”

“I don’t believe you,” Kaila said, sitting up.

“I can’t,” Jordyn implored, reaching for her.

“You could if you wanted to!”

“Kaila—”

“You can travel across space and time and make people think and do anything. Why can’t you do this?”

“I can’t, I really can’t.”

Rage coiled in Kaila’s belly burning like hot coals.

“I hate you,” she said in a low tone. “I’ll hate you forever till I die.”

Jordyn shut his eyes, lowered his head.

She drew back her arm to punish him with all her furor, but in a flash, he was gone.

Losing her target for her fist, she punched the pillow.

“I hate you, hate you, hate you!” she cried, punching the pillow.

On her side, she drew her knees to her chest and cried. Alone.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,” the preacher intoned.

Everyone dressed like black crows. Paw Paw’s body lay in a closed casket in the front of the church. Nan couldn’t bear to see his face in death. Pictures adorned the altar of Paw Paw as a boy, as a man, yet his lifeless body lay inside that casket.

Seated between her mother and Nan, Kaila felt numb. The organ played the hymn
Amazing Grace
and one of Nan’s church friends sang up front.

Melissa and Pia had come, hugged her, told her they were sorry for her loss and sat respectfully behind the family.

Kaila folded her hands, prayed for strength. Anything to quell the endless tears. How much loss could she take? She thought of Jordyn, wished he were with her, could hold her, comfort her. Then she thought about kicking him or sticking a knife in his back.

Priscilla Snowden sat in a pew across the aisle, gazing at her serenely.

Get away from me,
Kaila mentally shouted. She wanted nothing, no one to come near.

Priscilla bowed her head.

I am sad with you,
Priscilla said telepathically.
I’m sorry. I care.

Git!
Kaila’s mind shouted, refusing to look at her. Kaila would be like that song her mother liked. She would be a rock, an island.

When you need me, I’m here,
Priscilla said.

I don’t need anyone,
Kaila shot back.
The more people you let close, the more you get hurt. So just leave me alone!

This was a muddy blur, entrenched in this surreal funeral. Kaila felt nothing. Inside, she was as dead as her Paw Paw’s corpse.

She observed, on a beautiful sunny day, her grandfather’s coffin lowered into the earth. Observed her mother and Nan weeping. She dimly heard the preacher saying prayers. This was a dark, dirty dream. It was ludicrous that the sun shone and the birds sang.

She thought of Paw Paw smiling and singing
Happy Birthday
and offering her a Twinkie at breakfast.

Do you know how much I love you, Goosy
, he’d asked.

I’ve missed you,
Jordyn had said.

No. Block it out.

But she couldn’t block it out. The inside of her chest actually ached, felt like the horses’ hooves had trampled over her heart. It pulsed like a throbbing raw wound. It hurt so deeply, she couldn’t pretend or deny. She had loved Paw Paw. And Jordyn.

Kaila lowered her head and wept. Once she allowed the tears to come, she couldn’t stop. She wept until she choked.

We miss you. We are sorry.

She heard the voices in her mind. Despite the heavy mental soils of grief, she knew these were real thought transmissions. She felt weak, vulnerable, and raw; she no longer cared. Seeing her mother put her arm across Nan’s quivering shoulder and then Nan breaking down completely, her eyes pink and puffy, her cheeks blotched with red, Kaila couldn’t take anymore.

She plodded to the rear of the crowd in the cemetery. She leaned against an oak tree trunk, looking through blurred vision at a tombstone.

For weeks, Kaila had barely eaten. She felt light-headed; she feared she might faint. Then, abruptly, Antonia appeared in front of the gravestone. Her face twisted in concern. She wore a black headband in her short hair.

“I know you don’t want to see us,” she said. “But I had to come and tell you we are sorry.” As Kaila gazed into Antonia’s dark face, she appraised her concern as genuine.

She approached and wrapped her arms about Kaila. Feeling her strong arms and supple body against hers, Kaila went limp. She hadn’t the strength to tell her to go away. With her touch, she lost control and sobbed.

Antonia drew her close, petting her hair. “I marvel at humans who feel so deeply. Their grief and pain falls in water from their eyes, like a fountain from their hearts.”

Kaila wept softly, feeling Antonia’s warm cheek on hers.

“You have awakened me, Kaila,” Antonia whispered.

When she heard this, Kaila sobbed more. She hadn’t the nerve to tell Antonia she was made of stone, emotionless as concrete, was a deceiver and predator. Yet, when she saw a tear fall from Antonia’s large eye, Kaila relaxed and surrendered to the simple comfort of her alien arms.

So she was half alien, half human. A hybrid. Betrayed. Lost. Alone. Kaila hadn’t the strength to return to school. Between the cruelty of her classmates and the manipulative deceptions of the aliens . . . no. All creatures caused suffering and pain. Kaila kept the mind-screen on her teachers, making them believe she attended class, making straight A’s. She put a mind-screen on her family, who thought she was in school. Sadly, she even put a mind-screen on Melissa and Pia. She just could not deal with anyone.

Every day, Kaila projected the mind-screens, ate breakfast, then went to her room and locked the door.

She spent hours on her bed listening to her iPod, staring at the slats of her canopy. She abandoned the wig and plastic and lived in her old jeans and t-shirt. If she was condemned as a hick, so be it. All those plastic high school judges and executioners could kiss her hybrid ass.

She blocked all thoughts of Jordyn. Every time an image surfaced . . . of him kissing her . . . of holding her . . . she blocked.

She would never love again.

Again, she became conscious of her bruised, raw heart. She could cry no more. She folded her hands.
Please help me. I don’t know what to pray for, even to ask for, but please help.

She’d cried ten thousand tears. She was closing up, doors slamming shut, simply breathing in a dark mausoleum. She wished she could crawl into that casket with her grandfather and die. She thought of the darkness of the ground and the worms. She felt smothered and suffocated. It was stuffy in the bedroom.

Kaila rose from her bed. She opened the balcony doors and went to sit in her white wicker rocking chair. She inhaled deeply of the fresh air, smelling pine while surveying the land, the pond, the barn. All was still, the sun shining.

Please help me
, she prayed.

She drew on her mother’s strength of meditation and quieted her mind. She must clear all worry and confusion.

Her eyes half mast, she detected a glowing ball of light. It floated over the balcony, shimmering and radiant. Priscilla Snowden took form. Her platinum hair was unbound, flowing over her shoulders and long white gown.

Kaila was so numb she didn’t care.

Priscilla sat in the rocking chair beside her. “You wanted help.”

“Who are you? I mean,
what
are you?”

“I’m a light worker,” she said, rocking.

Kaila rubbed her puffy eyes.

“We come from a star in the Galactic Center,” Priscilla explained. “We come to those who ask for help. We are what some think are angels. But we are extraterrestrials the same as those you’ve encountered in school . . . but from elsewhere and a higher dimension.”

Kaila rocked in her chair.

“But we only come when we are invited.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we cannot interfere with free will.”

Kaila stared at Priscilla Snowden, so lovely and placid, rocking in the wicker chair.

“You’ve seen that there are those who don’t honor free will. That they deceive. That they use and feed on humans.”

“Yes,” Kaila whispered, her heart beating.

“But there are others, who want to see you and all humans on Earth succeed and find freedom.”

“And how can we do that?”

“Knowledge,” Priscilla smiled cryptically. “There’s a reason it says in your scripture: ‘A wise man has great power, and a man of knowledge increases strength.’

“Unfortunately, many books of the Bible were omitted to prevent humans from gaining all spiritual knowledge. Those who wanted power made them unavailable. They manipulated religions to have power and rule you. Those religions hold many truths, though.

“But know that you, and all humans, possess much more power than you think.”

“Then why am I alone?” Kaila asked.

“You are never truly alone. Close your eyes, meditate on your heart, and you will find that the whole universe resides within. There you will connect with the Source, what you call God, Yahweh, Allah, Buddha, Brahman, Krishna, Vishnu, Jehovah . . . Source has many names. Source lives within. We are all connected, one.

“That is what they, in the past, didn’t want you to know. You are all one. They created your divisiveness and you bought into it. Truly, there is no need to fight. If you awaken and discover your own power and unite, they are powerless to control you.”

Kaila didn’t understand.

“But let me put it more simply. Always question all. Never accept anything blindly till you’ve examined it for yourself.”