I'm Not From Earth - 14. Fourteen

f o u r t e e n

Rover had never been in a forest at night.

The times he had gone out of the city were when he was much younger. His father had maintained a close relationship with all his siblings, and so that was how his uncle had been able to pull Rover out of his father's grasp for a few days of excitement. They had gone white water rafting, sailing, rock climbing, and many other activities that Rover could never forget. Those golden days had been limited, as his father's business grew stronger and his heart grew into stone. By the time Rover entered middle school, he was no longer allowed out without a bodyguard, and by the end of it, he was no longer allowed out of his home besides school. And as soon as Rover entered high school, his uncle passed away from long battled cancer. Just like Rover's mother. They had, however, made a final hiking trip in a small patch of rocky woods many years ago.

The forest, Rover remembered, glowed in the sunlight. The air swam with the musty scent of animals and wildflowers. Leaves glittered, kissed by the cool morning dew. It was all very fairy-tale.

This forest made his memory feel insignificant. The air here held an oppressive force, the trees wide and seemed so high that they could kiss the stars. Perhaps it was the darkness, or perhaps it was just Rover's fear of the dark, but he thought the place was ominous. And it wasn't just an impression, but as if he knew something was going to happen.

Slade stayed close to Rover, his movements fluid. So fluid they almost seemed to be the treads of a forest animal. Rover caught glimpses of him every time a moon beam wrought it way past the bundles of high branches and leaves. He looked at ease. Serene, even. His very presence was comforting -- or distracting. One way or another, with Slade by his side, Rover's breathing eventually slowed down until he was no longer hyperventilating. That is, until a loud and frightful sound exploded right behind him.

It sounded like something was asking who! He jumped and slammed face first into a tree trunk.

"What was that!" Rover whispered, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with trembling fingers. He could barely feel the pain from his collision.

"I told you, you're safe with me. Nothing can hurt you," Slade stressed that last part, his voice soothing but protective. "... Even mighty owls."

"An owl? That was not an owl... that was something talking to us. I swear."

Slade laughed, took Rover's hand and forced him to drag his jittery feet.

As they walked, the trail became more obscure and more difficult to tread. Roots choked the soil and rocks, knobbly skins surfacing and covered in moss. The elevation grew more and more steep as well.

About ten minutes through, Rover stopped to catch his breath. He thought he was in good shape, training for football and all, but hiking was obviously out of his league. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he looked up to observe Slade who was still climbing steadily. His steps were so effortless, Rover realized, although he was sure that he must have gotten used to the climbing if he lived so far in the wilderness.

He paused for a few more moments, letting his eyes linger on Slade's butt, before resuming his pace.

To his convenience, his foot landed on a slippery root. He lost his footing, and tipped sharply backwards.

Before he could even scream crap!, Slade's arms were suddenly around him, steadying him.

"That's the second time," Slade's smile could be seen in the dark. Rover wasn't sure what had stopped his heart -- the fact that he had almost fallen to his death, or the fact that his walking wet dream was embracing him. Again. Slade was too close, and Rover had to make himself uncomfortable or risk doing something he may regret.

"I didn't fall down the first time," Rover stated, returning his foot to solid ground and his hand onto a tree trunk.

"Then we'll make it once. You need to save me next time."

"I can like, push you off right now," Rover suggested, "and I guess then I can drive you to the hospital."

Slade laughed. "I'll think of something less stupid once we get to my cabin, alright?"

Rover nodded, then asked, "Why do you live all the way in here, anyways? Isn't it like, more convenient to be in the city?"

"I don't have the money for rent," Slade said simply, "and no one of concern wants to track down cabins set in the middle of the forest, so I can get away with a place to stay." Another smile. "Also, it's nice here. Much nicer than in the middle of downtown."

"Do you live with your parents?" Rover asked, wondering how Slade's parents would look like. They would have to be pretty perfect looking.

There was a pause. "My parents are dead. So I live alone with the owls and the bears."

Rover shuddered at the thought of bears before letting the full weight of Slade's words sink in. A strange mixture of emotions ran through him, and he wasn't quite sure what they were. So he simply said, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I was too young to remember father or mother. I was raised in an orphanage before I ran away from my foster home." The tone of Slade's voice sounded like he wanted to say more, but he was quiet.

"I lost my mom to cancer when I was five," Rover said after a moment.

"I'm sorry."

"I remember her, but I didn't live with her long enough to know her. But sometimes I kind of wished I did."

"Me too, Rover."

They climbed steadily, now side by side, conquering tree roots and the darkness, neither of them saying any more on the matter. The pensive silence was broken when Rover suddenly remembered something.

He asked, "were you expecting me to fall?"

Slade seemed a little confused. "Well, no, not really. You don't really look clumsy. You play football?"

"Yeah." Rover cocked his head. "Do I look it?"

"Abercrombie," was all he said, with a not-so-guilty grin.

"Well, anyways," Rover said, frowning, "what I meant was you were like... back facing me and five paces ahead, and when I slipped, well, you were like not there and then you were right next to me. So I figured..."

The air suddenly seemed full of buzzing questions.

"So I figured," Rover finished slowly, "that either you already knew that I was falling, or you could move really fast."

Was it even possible for someone to run five paces downwards in a split second?

"I was much closer to you than five paces," Slade replied steadily. He then asked, "are you sure you aren't stoned? It's hard to judge distances when you're head is all messed up from the smoke. We could rest here a little while until you feel better..."

The thought of sitting down on the floor of a dark, dark forest, totally exposed to the owls and the bears made Rover wanna run around in circles and scream.

"Hell no," he growled.

They walked for a few more minutes before another confusing thought hit him.

We've had been hiking for nearly an hour, Rover noted. If they had been travelling for so long, they must be quite a distance away from George's place. Slade had mentioned earlier that he had come to the mansion because he couldn't stand the marijuana smoke, but how could he smell it from so far away? Rover paused to take in a deep breath, then realized that it was impossible to catch any scent from such a distance. A fleeting thought popped into his mind, but he quickly brushed it away.

Why would Slade lie?

Rover looked over at his new found friend -- his profile so fascinatingly sharp, the green eyes so misty and clear, those lips that held an irresistible glow -- and let out a shaky breath. He couldn't think about it any more, Rover thought, because if he did, he'd either become even more confused, or Slade's beauty would distract him enough to make him forget everything.

"Didn't you say the walk was only supposed to take fifteen minutes?" Rover asked, studying Slade's reaction from the corner of his eyes.

It was hidden well, just the faintest of a flicker of surprise, but Rover had somehow -- he had no clue, as he was supposed to be a brainless Abercrombie -- able to pick it up.

"It's fifteen minutes when I hike it," Slade said, "you get faster when you walk this walk three times a week. And plus," he added in a very smug matter-of-fact tone, "I've more athletic endurance than you."

"That is kinda weird," Rover said carefully. "Do you spend most of your time training? I mean like, I do cross country twice a week and football as well, but I can't climb half as fast."

"Well I do a lot of running, if that's what you mean by training. Maybe you're just really slow, but that's okay," Slade said, smiling. "I like having you as a dead weight. It's better than walking alone."

Blushing, Rover had to pinch himself to get focused. He allowed himself a minute to recover the beating of his heart, which had accelerated explosively in a rush of painful affection. The rest of him -- all his muscles and all his strands of hair -- urged to wrap around Slade and never let go, but he resisted the titanic attraction.

Dropping all pretenses, Rover stopped.

Slade took a few more paces, then looked back, stopping as well, a bewildered expression on his face. He waited.

"I hate like... beating around the bush," Rover said, looking down at the ground beneath Slade's feet, "so I'll just ask. What's going on?"

There was no initial reply. Then, "I don't think I get what you mean, sir. Are you alright?"

"How could you smell marijuana smoke from your house, if you're so far away?" Rover asked brusquely.

Slade frowned. "Why does it matter?"

"Are you lying?" Rover's eyes narrowed.

Slade shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

"Just answer, goddammit!"

Rover's outburst shook both of them into silence. He was surprised at himself, but was too pumped up to stop.

"You're giving me this vibe that like, tells me that I'm totally missing out on something. And it's freaking me out. Like, being in a dark forest in the middle of the night, thinking fifteen minutes of walking, wondering how you like... like, seriously, why the hell am I here anyways? Is it because you found out I'm rich and you want to kidnap me or something?"

"What?" Slade looked dumbfounded, but Rover ignored him.

"Or is it 'cause you hate Abercrombie kids and you wanna take me to somewhere secluded so you can stab me or hit me over the head me with a baseball bat --"

"A baseball bat? Rover, calm down -- "

"Why the hell should I be calm?"

"It's not what you think -- "

"Well what is it then?" Rover yelled. "Why are we here? Why are you... how do you..."

Rover didn't know how to put it into words. It seemed too ridiculous. The speed in which Slade had closed in on Rover when he was rescued him from his careless trip, his inconsistent words, the free fall stunt that would've spelled certain death for any ordinary person...

"Just tell me what's going on," Rover finished lamely.

Silence. More silence. Too much silence that filled in between their words, so empty and without sound, but so full and tense enough to nock an arrow. In the enormity of it all, Slade simply turned his back. Rover wanted to hear him cry out, You've been pranked, my Abercrombie friend! But that didn't come. He wasn't sure what was going to come.

"I could tell you." A lengthy pause. "... But I don't think you'd understand."

Rover did not hesitate to reply. "I'm much less Abercrombie than you think I am."

"I knew that after you spazzed at me for throwing you off a certain balcony."

Staring at Slade's back, muscled and tapered, strong but seemingly fragile, he seemed both vulnerable and threatening at the same time. Still speaking without turning around, he said:

"I'm... not from here."

Rover tried to decipher what he meant, but wound up totally confused. Slade's voice was also a tone Rover had never heard before. Thick with emotion, quiet, and trembling. Intimate and... fearful?

"Okay. Uhm, where you from then?"

"I don't know."

Rover waited for more, but there was none. That was it. Three words, spoken so honestly he could not, for even a moment, doubt it.

He was careful to choose his next words, "so... do you remember your last name? Or... your parents...?"

"I don't have amnesia!"

Slade's controlled demeanor shattered, and his face was a frightening mask of fury. Rover cringed.

"I'm not from here," Slade continued, words rolling out from him in a torrent. "I'm not from anywhere you know, or anyone here knows, of that I'm sure. I'm not from the U.S., and I'm not from North America. I'm not from the world."

There was a gasping pause.

"I'm not from earth."

*