Zoe Thanatos (5 page)

“So when you say you caught me, you
did so literally and then just zapped instantly to the beach?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered. He watched her
face carefully. Clearly it was one thing to explain the truth to her, and
another to to prove that it really did happen.

“And you can do that anywhere?”

“Yes.” Suddenly she didn’t look
like the sad girl he watched that morning. There was no more melancholy or
sadness, no more anger; just pure, unfiltered excitement.

“Hang here for a second,” she
insisted as she rifled through her backpack for something. Having found what
she was looking for, she went inside of the restaurant and consulted with the waiter.
Evan took a sip of water so as to not look like he was watching her. The orange
glow of the sunset diffused into a soft blue, a sign that night was falling
through the city. His eyes found her again and he realized she was paying the
check for dinner. He took a final sip from his glass of water and moved to
stand from his seat.

She was back at the table as he did,
grabbing her bag from the blue couch.

“I was planning to pay,” he mumbled
awkwardly. She wrapped her bag around her shoulders and looked up into his
eyes.

“Take me somewhere and we’ll call
it even.”

He wasn’t sure what was going on.
She demanded answers but he hadn’t given her many, and he thought for sure she
would only want to know more now that she’d seen what he was capable of. What
was going on? “Anne, I...” he began.

“Actually,” she interrupted, her
hand reaching up to silence him. “My name is Zoe.”

The knowledge that she lied to him
about her name bothered him in a strange way. Her lie, as small and
insignificant as it was, happened before he caught her, before he followed her,
even before they landed on the island. They were mutual travelers on a boat
headed out for a day’s worth of adventure. He didn’t understand why she felt it
was necessary to lie about something as simple as her name. Ordinarily he
wouldn’t stand for it, but he decided to make an exception in her case.

“Zoe,” he confirmed. He gave a
terse smile and tried to hide the irritation from his face. “You know, I’ve
never done anything like this.”

She looked a bit surprised. “Why
wouldn’t you if you were able to? In fact,” she started, pointing towards his
rental car, “why do you even have that? Why waste time driving when you can
just pop in and out in an instant?”

He scoffed at her logic. “It isn’t
exactly subtle. How would I explain it if some random stranger just happened to
see me appear out of thin air right before their eyes? I don’t just go around
popping
in and out where I please. Just because I can do certain things doesn’t mean I
have to.”

“Except...” she started, “you did
with me.”

He knew she was right. In all the
time he spent there away from his own home he never once exposed his true self,
never even considered taking the risk It had only been a couple hours since he
prevented her from taking her life, and so far she made no attempt to try
again. Maybe this was what was keeping her from making another? Despite his
personal reservations and the fact that they were barely more than
acquaintances, he didn’t want their time together to end. What would have
happened if he never followed her and subsequently saved her life? What if she
never tried to take her life at all? Would they have talked again after their
first conversation?

“Where would you like to go?” There
was only one way to know why their paths had crossed, and for what purpose.

Zoe steepled her fingers conspiratorially
in front of her chest. “It’s just after five in the morning in Paris,” she
whispered.

“Paris, France?” He had been once
previously and found he didn’t have a taste for it, but didn’t have the heart
to decline her request.

“I hate airplanes,” she confessed,
as if the explanation was all that was necessary. Perhaps whatever logic was
behind the statement made more sense to her in her mind than it did out loud.

Like all of his actions that day he
had no clue what the repercussions of that particular one would be. He never
‘popped’ in and out of places, as she so eloquently put it, and didn’t know
what kind of effect it would have on her. She blacked out the first time, most
likely due to the particular circumstances of the event. She was perfectly fine
when they went to the vineyard; it seemed to lift her spirits.

“Take my hand,” he instructed. He
reached out with his left hand. She hesitated for a moment; finally, she placed
her right hand in his.

He found a small grove of potted
trees that were just tall enough to obscure them from any direct line of sight.
There were only a few people walking about minding their own business and
paying no attention to them. Certain that no other eyes were on them, he held
her hand tighter and looked down into her expectant gaze.

“Don’t let go,” he whispered.

For the second time that evening
the streets of downtown Ventura disappeared around them, replaced with the much
older and grander architecture of Paris. Morning light had yet to break through
the sky and the lights from the streets were still glowing around them. Zoe’s
eyes grew large, her pupils dilating to compensate for the dim sky and hiding
the beautiful brown. She drank in the sight around them in awe, keeping her
breath as though expelling it would make the world around her disappear.

“How do you do that?” she whispered
in wonder.

The soft glow of the lights
reflected in her eyes created a confetti of gold that sparkled as she took in
their surroundings. It was evident in her face that she was instantly enchanted
with the city. He wondered if she had ever been anywhere. Maybe that island far
off the coast of California was her only foray into the world outside her own?
Her hand tightened considerably in his, holding on as though to keep her from
floating away. Her hand was much smaller than his and he adjusted it to
compensate, stretching his palm and fingers to keep her safe on the ground.

Though still beautiful, she did not
have the face of the girl who sadly watched the ocean pass around her, or who
stood peacefully still before taking a running leap off a cliff. Hers was not
the face of a girl who wanted to end her life. He hadn’t saved her by jumping
after her, but perhaps he was the catalyst for something far greater for her.
In that moment with Paris reflected in her eyes and her hand stowed securely in
his own, he felt like it was his responsibility to keep her safe, to make her
happy. If his help was what would bring any measure of happiness to her life
then he would do it gladly.

“Seriously,” she started, breaking
his concentration. “How are you able to do this?”

“I can’t really explain it,” he
shrugged. His eyes were stuck on hers, not caring for the beauty around them so
much as the interpretation of it on her lovely face. “The easiest explanation
is that I’m not beholden to the rules of this place like you are. The world is very
different where I come from.”

“And where is that exactly?” she
whispered. He could see that he had her full attention, and maybe a bit of her
trust. He understood that she was asking for answers to questions he never had
to answer before, but in that space with her he felt as though he could give
her what she wanted.

“I’ll tell you,” he promised. She
looked hopefully up at him, the color of the sky changing behind her as the
morning light started to trickle in. “But not yet. Name another place.”

She took one last glance around
her, taking in as much as she could manage in so little time. “Everywhere.”

He took her anywhere she asked:
outside the gates of Buckingham Palace in London; beneath a stone post and
lintel of Stonehenge; the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge in New York; the
Vatican in Italy. He kept her hand in his as they made their way around the
western hemisphere, eventually making their way to the harbor in Sydney and the
city streets of Athens beneath the ancient ruins of the Acropolis. It was in
Greece when he noticed their travels were having an adverse affect on her. She
nearly stumbled to the ground of the agora and it was only the grip of his hand
that kept her on both feet.

“It’s fine. I’m just tired,” she
protested. Her face, though never free of the awe of each new destination, grew
wary.

“I think I should take your home,
Zoe.”

“No, no,” she protested. “Just one
more place, please! I’ve never seen snow.” Her head drooped backwards as her
voice cut off. He caught her in his arms as her body went limp with
unconsciousness.

He found a stone bench nearby and
carefully placed her on top of it. He only knew she lived in Santa Barbara but
didn’t know exactly where in the city. He rifled through her bag until he found
her wallet. Inside was some cash, a few credit cards and her driver’s license.
Immediately he was taken aback by the face in the picture that stared back at
him. It must have been a few years old but it was definitely Zoe. She was all
eyes and hair, smiling back at him with the carefree manner of a young woman
with her whole life ahead of her. He wondered when she last looked like that, and
if she ever would again.

He quickly committed her address to
memory and slid her license back into its compartment. As he did a small line
of numbers caught his eye. It was her 25th birthday. Something inside him
turned dark as he looked again at the smiling Zoe captured in the photo, then
to the current Zoe in front of him, passed out on a bench beneath the
Acropolis. He saw just a hint of what he imagined was her former self when in
Paris, but it was clear to him that most of her light had diminished
considerably over the years. He could barely fathom the amount of profound
sadness required to take one’s own life on their birthday.

Something else caught his eye.
Zoe
Thanatos
. There was a ping of recognition somewhere in the back of his
mind, though he couldn’t place what it meant. Everything in him tensed at the
name Thanatos. A distant memory fought to come into the forefront of his mind. It
was a name he recognized, but from his past, and his home.

Zoe’s eyes opened into darkness. As
they adjusted she faintly recognized her own bedroom. It was dark outside and
the clock beside the bed displayed an ungodly early morning hour. A thin
blanket had been placed over her fully clothed body, and her feet were snug
inside a pair of socks. Strangely, she had no recollection of ever coming home.
The bedroom door was ajar with a dim stream of light seeping in around the
corners. She got up quietly and made her way to the living room.

The lamp beside the couch was
turned on and illuminating Evan, who was leaning back comfortably into the
sofa. His concentration was on a thin brick of glass glowing with white light
as he moved his finger across the screen. From the large window that looked out
onto the posh, palm tree lined street, she could see both her car and his
rental parked in the driveway.

An image of the Acropolis in Greece
came to mind like the memory of a great dream. It was the last moment she could
remember before waking up in her bedroom. Somehow he’d found out where she
lived, taken her home, put her to bed, and then picked up both their cars from
Ventura half an hour away. She really only needed one guess how he managed all
of that.

His ability to go anywhere within
an instant still astounded her. How was he able to do that? She decided to take
him up on his promise to tell her.

“You’re welcome to sleep on the
couch if you’d like,” she offered, her voice breaking the silence that had
fallen throughout the house.

He looked up and smiled kindly.
“I’m not much of a sleeper, but thank you. How are you feeling?”

“Hmm, a bit jet-lagged I suppose.”
Even she was surprised by the joke.

“I brought your car back for you,”
he announced, his head moving in the direction of the driveway.

“I saw. Thank you. Driving isn’t as
fast as popping in and out as you please, is it?”

“It’s not so bad. Freeways are
interesting.” He looked contemplative at the thought.

“Yes, well perhaps you’ve missed
out on the kind and courteous ways in which people in California drive on those
freeways,” she mused. She moved to the sofa and took a seat on the opposite end
facing him.

“I, uh, got something for you.” He
fumbled for an elegantly decorated box resting on the coffee table. It was long,
narrow, and pistachio green in color with gold filigree decorations. ‘
Ladurée’
was printed elegantly on the top in gold. Inside she found eight of the most
delicate and brightly colored pastries she had ever seen. They smelled fresh.

“Macarons?” she questioned gently.

“From Paris. When you passed out in
Greece I had to look at your license for your home address. I noticed that it
was your birthday and you seemed so enchanted by Paris...” he drifted off, his
eyes still on her as he quieted

She had zoned out for a moment,
lost in her thoughts as her fingers moved lightly along the precious gold
filigree.

“I thought you should have
something special for your birthday. Something to remind you of Paris,” he
finished.

From out of nowhere a ball formed
in her throat and she had to swallow it down to keep from erupting in a fit of
emotion. It was a while before she felt composed enough to speak. “That’s the
nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I hope not,” he replied, his tone
doubtful.

“No, you’re right. Taking me around
the world, the memories of which are a whirlwind in my mind right now... that’s
the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Finally her eyes lifted up from
the delicate script of the box and met his.