Eyes of Time - 10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Numb

It turns out I wasn’t on the floor of my room as long as I perceived it. Through all the drama happening around me I was just unaware. The alarms had gone off, just like last time. People had rushed to my door just the same way, pounding on it relentlessly. They had to give up eventually when it was clear I wasn’t going to open, and the keys were on the lock. They had to get tools to force it open, break the lock, the door, anything.

They found me there, shivering on the carpeted floor, the cell phone gripped in my hand, none the wiser to the commotion going around me. I wasn’t responding, and my vitals were going haywire. Apparently I was in shock, catatonic, non-responsive. All those terms figured up on my medical chart later when I got a hold of it.

James had been incensed, mad about something, probably me for disrupting his peace yet again. Robin assured me it wasn’t me he was mad with. He was just so damn concerned he didn’t leave my bedside at the infirmary until the high hours of the morning, only after my vitals had finally stabilized and the doctor had announced I would be under a medicated resting sleep. No chance for waking up.

Robin had been panicking at first, bouts of undirected guilt, thinking somehow it had been his reaction earlier to trigger my hysterics.

Dylan was the one to tell me all of this, whispering, when I finally woke up in the infirmary bed. He was sitting beside me, his arm around Robin, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder, obviously tired with worry.

I had many visitors that afternoon (I had yet again slept through the day). Everybody clearly wanted to know what had happened, but they were all too afraid to ask directly, afraid I would start convulsing on the bed any time now. The doctor had told them not to worry or pressure me until he gave his clearance. I had been through hell and back, even though he had no idea how that had happened inside my own closed bedroom, with no physical evidence to show for my torment.

After that it was sort of a blur. I ate, if not much. I slept, but only medicated. I talked, but I’m not even sure they were more than mumbles. Thinking back I’m almost certain I left some sentences unfinished. Just hanging, holding my breath to end them later when my mind returned again.

No specific things crossed my mind. I was absent minded, people often having to repeat themselves to catch my attention. I hardly remembered what I had seen though. Not that I couldn’t, I just wasn’t. It hurt too much. Robin would sometimes get up and lean towards me. Only afterwards did I register the feeling of something brushing my cheek, leaving it smeared and wet. He was drying my tears.

That was yesterday. I would like to say I’m loads better now, but I have only to notice the look on the nurse trying to get my attention, obviously having repeated herself, to know that I’m not. But I don’t really bother to register it either.

She’s pressing something into my hands. I look down. It’s a flask of pills, with tinny print contrasting on a shiny white label across it. It strikes me as odd how they expect people to read something like that, so small.

She obviously finds it very important that I take it, that I understand what she’s saying. I don’t, but I nod anyways to lessen her frustration. It’s probably written all over that tinny print whatever it is she’s saying anyway. Maybe I should make a note of reading it later, of caring enough to want to know.

When I look up again to try and ask her when I can leave she’s not there anymore. The room is empty and still, half of the lights of the room are turned off. I almost wonder how much time has passed, but that too is too much trouble.

I just assume I can leave any time now; I’m wearing my clothes again after all. They even left me my shoes. They’re right there beside my naked feet, on the bare white floor. How odd that I don’t register the cold. It must be even warmer than under the blankets that are on the bed. They were cosy, and fuzzy and numb. Warm, I mean.

A hand touches my shoulder. I follow it to the person attached to it. It’s an angel. All blue eyes and a baby face with a strong, manly jaw and soft looking, golden curls.

“Rhina, are you ok?” The voice is so soft. I feel like smiling. For a moment I mistook James. I just nod to let him know that all is good. Isn’t it?

“Let’s go, let’s take you to your room. Have you rest a little.” I nod again and I go to him, just looking at him. He feels warm to look at, very safe. I look down as my bare feet find a different texture. My naked toes are wiggling over his shoes. I almost giggle.

He sits me over a chair, reaches my sneakers, and oh so gently cradles my foot as he looks me in the eyes. For a moment it comes to mind he’s going to propose, and that thought is so funny that I do giggle this time. His lips twitch a little I think.

He’s very careful to tie the laces. I should feel the urge to tell him that I never tie them, that he doesn’t have to, but my mind has gone somewhere else again. Roaming the streams of light, playing with the tinny pixies of dust in the air. Fairy tales waiting to be told.

When he calls my name again we’re not in the infirmary anymore. There’s a bed. Maybe he did propose after all. And maybe I just nodded. I should start panicking any time now, but I don’t.

He’s tucking a blanket around me and talking about the pills. How tomorrow will be different. He takes them from my hand and puts the flask down on the bedside table.

He’s turning to leave but I hold his hand. It’s a big hand, manly, with all five big, firm fingers, and nails. So warm, so safe. I let the darkness catch me, certain of the safety in that hand.

*

I wake up with that feeling of having just left the strangest dream I have ever had. I blink. And I blink again. My head feels heavy, my mouth is dry and pasty, and my limbs don’t want to move. Worse of all, my eyes are wet, surely red with tears I can’t yet understand.

My ignorance doesn’t last long though. Everything comes rushing back. All the rollercoaster of feelings. The guilt, the sadness, the numbness. It’s too much. I jump from the bed trying to reach the waist bin in time. I throw up food I don’t even remember having ingested.

When my stomach is empty my brain tells it to dry heave and retch just the same. It’s awful. Eventually it calms down and I look at the ceiling, trying to figure out where to go from now.

A shower would be nice. One thing at a time then.

I take my time, gathering my things, focusing on the task of choosing clothes, of getting my slippers on, of walking the hallway and turning on the faucets.

I focus on the feeling of the warm water on my head, my shoulders, my back.

Yesterday was easier to bear. With the medication I’m sure I was under. I’m used to watching horrible things, of having to move on even with their weight on my shoulders. This time should be no different. It isn’t, I try to tell myself, but the ache is still there.

I’m not really worried about the possibility of the exact scenario I witnessed. I know how to avoid it. I just have to delete that number from the cell phone and make sure I never call it again. No big deal. But the knowledge is still there. The turmoil still very much fresh.

I’ve come to accept my visions as true. I don’t question them, or what was said. Everything I’ve seen so far was true. Many things were even registered through history.

I don’t question the truth of that person I saw. It was all very real. It’s just not going to happen. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll learn how to defend myself, how to run better. How to save myself and him too in the process. It aches to think of not saving him as well.

If ever I needed a motive to make me want to control my gift, to try harder to understand it, then this was it. This vision alone, so sad, so close to home, is all the focus I need to get back on my feet. To get out there and learn as much as I can.

It’s either that or playing the victim, and I was never very good at the latter.

It’s sometime later when I recognise the first familiar faces of the day. Robin and Dylan are sitting over some books in a room near the cafeteria. The way Dylan is staring, as Robin’s forehead furrows in concentration almost makes me step back and not interrupt the intimate moment. But Robin must have felt my gaze because his head rises in my direction and his lips shape into a brilliant grin when he spots me. I walk over their table.

“’Morning bookworms. How’s it going?” I try and make it sound casual and fun. Hope I’m being convincing about it.

“Don’t you mean ‘afternoon?” Dylan asks me with his teasing smile.

I groan. I slept through the day again. I don’t think I have faced a single morning in this place.

“How late is it this time?” I’m almost afraid to ask them. Wasn’t there some tutoring to take place sometime yesterday or two days ago?

“It’s around four in the afternoon. But it’s ok. We’ve been told to let you sleep as you needed. With explicit orders to go check on you if you hadn’t made an appearance yet.. two hours from now.” He looks satisfied for memorizing all of this as he looks calculatingly at Robin’s wrist watch. Trust Dylan not to have one of his own.

I shake my head and wonder how much will it hurt if I actually bang my head on the table.

“Let me guess, this little stunt will get me two extra weeks of weird looks, gossip and attention?” I pray they’ll inform me wrong.

“I say it will be at least a month before they actually start looking at you anything less than weird.” Dylan must think himself so funny.

“How so very reassuring Dylan dear. How could I ever leave without you telling me that?” He snorts at my sarcasm, and I crack a smile too. This feels nice, almost normal. But it isn’t, and inside it’s still cold, empty.

Robin is closing his books and tiding up his things. “Let’s go. You must be hungry, and afterwards I have to take you to James. He’s been filling your tutor up on all the events. He was away, got delayed and only just got here. James asked me to take you to meet him afterwards. He thought it would do you some good, to take your head out of things..” He stops abruptly, obviously afraid I would have a relapse right there because he just mentioned it in passing.

“It’s ok. I won’t break if you mention it. I don’t feel like talking about it right now but I can handle it. I’m a big girl you know?” At least I think I can. How does one handle witnessing its own dead?

“Now, that would be spreading lies. You might be a girl, but you’re not that big, or at all really.” I hit Dylan on the head across the table. But it’s more of an affectionate pat than an actual hit. I just love the easy way he uses to make me laugh and feel better again.

Even though I’m not very hungry I ask them about my tutor as I nibble on a few crackers and some blackberry yoghurt.

“He’s not very talkative, so I don’t know that much about him, but we have worked together sometimes. Especially when I was learning how to meditate. He’s the best there is at what he does, but he’s also very rigid. It’s hard to get accustomed to his demeanour enough to let go and do what he says. But if you can wrap James around your finger the way you did, I’m pretty sure you’ll be alright.”

I just stare dumbfounded at Robin. Did he really just say that? I feel tempted to look in Dylan’s direction and see if there are any signs of him being a master ventriloquist in hiding. There’s no way he would keep a straight face after a stunt like that.

“Wh..what?”

“Oh, com’on, you know what I mean. James has been all over you these past few days. Sick with worry. I mean, I know better, but to pretty much everybody else he’s just this really cold guy that could care less what happens to you. Except with you, he isn’t.”

I’m still trying to wrap my head around that concept when Robin leads me out of the cafeteria. Robin is still giggling over some joke Dylan made about some song playing in the background. I have no idea which one it was. My mind is just too distracted still.

It sobers a lot though as Robin knocks on a door a few hallways ahead. When he opens it I can see James and another man in a big, white room.

The floor is covered in greyish white mattresses and this new man isn’t wearing any shoes. James is near him, standing on a small corridor, created by the gap between the mattresses. It leads towards the front of the room, to a higher platform with a desk and chair on it. Almost like a classroom with soft mattresses instead of students' desks.

When James spots me he gives me a smile I’m not expecting. One that looks like relief and caring. It’s warm, just like his hand last night. It’s a random thought but it makes me feel safe again.

When we reach them the other man bows slightly as a way of greeting. He has a slight if muscled frame, dark hair and eyes. His skin tanned and golden. His face is blank though, his gaze piercing, his posture rigid.

“Rhina, I want you to meet Sensei Nolan Barton. He’s one of our most accomplished tutors. He’s going to be working directly with you from now on.” James voice is strong but not steely like other times.

“If that is ok with you, that is.” He adds as an afterthought. Since when does James walk on egg shells around me? He must think me a frail thing now, needing to be handled with care so I won’t break. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong.

I compose my features into polite interest and not to him. I’m a bit uneasy about this new person, yet another unknown for me to consider. I let him take the lead, letting my direct stare unnerve him. He doesn’t look impressed though. He looks at Robin.

“Mr Thorpe, as pleasant as it might be to see you again, I take it you have a schedule to adhere to. If you would.” He bows slightly again, almost a nod, first to Robin, then to the door, indicating quite effectively that he should leave.

“Huh, of course sir. I’ll be on my way. It was nice seeing you again Sensei, welcome back.” He smiles slightly and then leaves the room in that awkward way of his. I can see why Dylan is so smitten. He’s quite adorable.

I turn to the man again, Sensei they call him. He sounds as one of those much respected, unquestioned teachers I usually hate so much at Uni. Specially because they insist on calling me by my last name at all hours of the day. They always manage to spat it out with as much contempt as my colourful hair and weird fashion sense obviously deserve, my quite good grades aside. I make it a point of irritating them further whenever I get the chance. Let’s see where this one leads.

“Miss Slate” Bingo! One of those then. Perfect.

“James has informed me you have caused us a many inconvenient. I am to be your tutor, and to be honest, so far, I don’t find myself very impressed.” It makes two of us then.

“I need to know if you’re going to be a nuisance.”

“You seem to know loads about me, and I find myself at a loss when it comes to you, sir. That hardly sounds fair.” I make sure my tone is respectful if a little scathing. I don’t like his superiority act.

Have I mentioned I have a problem with authority figures and all their strict rules to chaos? It unnerves me to no end. It’s all usually so very shallow and only skin deep. People hiding behind their names and unquestioned reputations to hide the putrid things inside.

“As James has informed you my name is Nolan Barton. I’m a master of meditation and martial arts. I also have experience in tutoring and directing pupils in a wide range of subject matters, including their gifts. That is what part I will play to you from now on.

“Your file mentions an academic interest in World History, I’ll be guiding you with that too, eventually. But you have yet to answer my remark, miss.” He’s trying to get me at my own game. This is stupid anyways.

“That is all very nice and dandy, but will you teach me how to fight, or not?” The question surprised even me. I wasn’t aware that his curriculum had actually picked my interest until I blurted it out. Do I want to fight?

I’ll have to, there’s no point in denying it, and it really doesn’t matter whether I want it or not. My visions have shown me that much. I’ll have to protect myself (and him ), I leave unsaid in my own head. Might as well use what resources I have near me.

My question left him surprised, even though he doesn’t show it. I only notice it by the surreptitious look he sends James.

“I wasn’t aware you had an interest.”

“Well, it just goes to show you that my file doesn’t tell you all there is to know about me, now isn’t it?”

His gaze pierces me, he’s letting me have my way, just to see how far I’ll push.

“My I ask why the interest?”

“To defend myself. The ones I care about. Why else?”

“Is this sudden interest related to your visions, particularly the more recent episodes?” Digging for info so blatantly? Oh, please, a little more cunning?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have just went from normal freakish girl that actually has a life, a job and a family, to abnormally freakish girl whose life is spent on hospital beds, and has no idea where her family and boss even are.

“What do you think? Isn’t it all about my visions lately?” And why the hell did I have to go and rant like that? Stop being sorry for yourself Rhina. This is why I need to learn how to fight, to actually be able to do something for a change.

I try to curb my tone, and re-steady my breathing do that of a calm person. “Besides, my instincts work better when I’m in movement. It just feels natural, I know things, before they happen when I’m riding my wheels, or doing a stunt. I’ve never had an accident..

“I mean, not before this run for your life routine at least. Fighting should help, right?” My voice is smaller as I finish. I find myself suddenly a little at a loss. Like I’m reaching way above my head, and I’m about to fall.

“James did mention you’re quite the runner. He had a lot of trouble keeping up with you. He said, and I quote: «I swear, she’s worse than a Tanzanian devil»” My lips twist slightly at his description. Is he kidding me? Nah, doesn’t look the type.

The Sensei just stares at me for a while, his head cocked to the side, weighting my ranting in his head most likely. Probably deciding on my request and on how to handle me. My look strays to James side while he’s at it. James is looking at me weird. Except, when he notices me he looks somewhere else. I could swear he was blushing, except there was no colour marring his chiselled cheeks.

“If we’re doing this, and do let me state my dislike for sudden whims and plan changing, then we’re doing this on my terms.” What is it with these guys and bossing me around?

“Whatever..”

“I will not tolerate insubordination, complaints or giving up just because. You are to think very well on what you’re asking of me and be sure to be up to the task. I do not give this opportunity lightly or to just anybody just because they asked. I’ll be merciless when I have to, and it will hurt, and it will exhaust you and you are to obey me. Are we understood?” I open my mouth with my scathing reply of why else would I be asking? but he doesn’t let me start.

“Don’t answer yet. You’ll take your time to think about it, and you shall give me your answer when we next meet. Just be sure that once you have given me your decision, there isn’t a going back.”

His voice is cold as steel and he’s annoying me more and more, but in a way I have to respect him for it. He clearly believes in what he’s telling me, and will defend it with his whole being. You have to respect a character like that. It isn’t easy to ground by your convictions, no matter what. It doesn’t stop me from being mad at him, at everybody, and wanting to scream just so loud..

“Is something the matter Rhina?” It’s James asking me after the long silence. My distress must have been all over my face.

“You don’t seem quite yourself today.” Except whenever I have confronted you before James. But I know what he means. Before, with him, he pushed all my buttons and I was pushing his. And we were both reacting to our fears. Everything too close for comfort.

I look down in shame. I haven’t been myself. I went from a state of catatonic shock to a state of irate rage at all and everyone. Even to Robin and Dylan I was somewhat cold, even if they were nice enough not to comment on it.

And now I feel like sinking to the floor again, and cry and sleep and forget, all over again. Maybe I should have taken one of the pills this morning. The ones that made me giggle in a haze at James for kneeling at my bare feet. I miss the haze, it hurt less.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” I croak after a while, my bangs still hiding my face as I stare at the floor mattresses in shame.

“Good, because this was the last time. You are lucky for having the opportunity to learn from me. It is not the other way around. I do not have a threshold for arrogance, nor insolence, so do refrain from such demonstrations.”

I guess I have a penchant for making people mad at me. I do have people trying to kill me after all. The Sensei is no different, or so it appears that way. Maybe next time I’ll be able to clean my image with him. Behave better, like a good little puppy. Pupil I mean.

Bah, who am I kidding, I’m not good with bossing around and he knows it already. Probably eats people like me at breakfast every day. I’ll just have to work hard to prove him wrong. I’ll learn, and I’ll try harder every time. I don’t have a choice, but maybe that will be enough.

--

I find myself in my room afterwards, trying to discern what happened in that room, and what went pear-shaped. It’s all about the way I’m feeling, but..

I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now, how to react. How does one react to one’s own dead? I’m obviously mad and lashing out, but wouldn’t you too be mad at the world, at life, at death for all the unfairness?

People die every day, just like that. All alone, with none the wiser. They die wishing they had those little extra seconds, to contemplate all the sunsets and sunrises they missed, going about their busy lives.

People die, just like that. People so full of life, so much greater than life, people we love, people we feel intimidated by because they shine so brightly it scares us to approach. Yet they too die alone. Like mom, like all the talented people death takes from us and never apologizes for, never a by your leave.

And don’t we feel bad that you never actually got to know such beautiful people? That you might have felt jealous at some point? That you never made an effort to inquire about their pain.

You just assume what amazing lives they have, and let them walk past you, wallowing yourself in your own perceived darkness. But one day, they stop walking, they are no longer there, and only then do you understand how much less radiant the world around you is. And you feel stupid, for not paying attention, not seeing, for being too self-centred to notice. And so you ache for them, and for yourself too.

I have hated death all my life for it, for taking these people from the world. It never scared me personally before, but it makes me so mad for what it does. The children, the wise men and women, the mothers and brothers and fathers of the world. It takes them and never looks back.

It will take me too eventually, and then I shall have my words with it. Call it by its ungrateful name and point out all its wrongs, all its unfairness. Maybe I’ll accomplish in shaming it just a little, and maybe, just maybe, that will make me feel that little bit better.

But that won’t be until later, much later. I will not die at his hands. I won’t. I’ll learn, I’ll fight, and I’ll save him, and my family, and Sam. Even James. I’ll do it even if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll have to.

I don’t even know who or what my enemy is yet, but I already know it poses a great threat. Someone feels uneasy with me and is trying to kill me. Someone took Micah, and made Robin witness. Someone made Leo that cold shell, a steel prison to the storm within. Made him dark, cold and almost empty. Someone made it necessary for my dad, his wife and little Adam to be taken away. And Sam too. Someone wants to bring us all closer to death, and that is pissing me off.

I’ll kill this someone if I have to, even though I’ll hate myself for it. I’ll have to be stronger. I will be.