06. weird, world.
The knock was loud, forceful, and expected. She folded the newspaper and dropped it beside her half-eaten bagel. Stood from the kitchen table and re-cinched her robe, trailing one hand fondly over her daughter’s shoulder and ruffling the cornsilk blonde hair as she went to answer it.
“Dušana, please brush your teeth when you’re finished, you know I dislike badgering you,” she called over one shoulder as she pulled back the curtain to peer outside. Even in a dark brown overcoat, hat pulled low over his forehead, she immediately recognized the man on the front step. Smiling, she slid the deadbolt back with a firm click, unhooking the chain and letting it dangle. Keyed in the release code for the alarm system and opened the door.
It was windy and overcast, the sky a mottled gray over his shoulders. Chillier than it had any right to be at this time of the year-perhaps the scientists were right, and global warming meant that traditional seasons were fast becoming obsolete. Taking in her smile, he quickly doffed his hat, bending his head in a nod of respect. The breeze wasted no time in disheveling his salt-and-pepper hair.
“Forgive me for intruding on your morning-”
“Alyosha, please. There is never any need for you to apologize to me. Come in.”
His smile was short and fleeting, his lined face’s inherent solemnity quick to reassert itself. Stepping past her, he stood awkward and stiff as she closed the door.
“Dušana, are you ready yet? The car will be here in a few minutes.”
“Yes, mama,” the high voice piped from the bathroom. “Can I take Zlata to school today for show and tell? Isai said he was bringing his snake.”
“Then perhaps it would be better to leave Zlata here? Snakes eat small furry things, baby.”
“I’ll keep her away from him! And he sits on the far side of the room,” Dušana argued, hurrying down the hall with a large purple bow clipped crookedly to her hair. “Please, mama?”
She bent to adjust the bow. “…Will you promise not to take her out of her cage?”
“Of course!”
“Alright. Go get her. And make sure you have all of your homework from last night. Hurry.”
With a whoop of delight, the girl darted away, taking the steps two at a time in her excitement. The echoes of her footsteps had barely died away before she was back, her knapsack slung over one shoulder and a small terrarium containing a fluffy golden hamster in her hands. Her white smile was broken by the black gap of a missing tooth, but it still held all the dazzling charm of innocent childhood. “Thank you, mama.”
“Just remember what I said. And where are your manners, baby? Say good morning to Mr. Kovalenko.”
“Good morning, Mr. Kovalenko,” the girl parroted dutifully, bobbing a curtsey.
“Good morning, Miss Volos. How are you enjoying school?”
“Oh, I like it a lot. Except for math. I don’t see why we have to learn math-numbers are so boring.”
“Unfortunately, they are a necessity of life.”
“Mr. Kovaleko is very good at math,” her mother said. “If you ever need help with your homework, perhaps he would agree to be your tutor.”
A horn honked outside. A gleaming black car idled in the long driveway. “Bye, mama,” Dušana said, bouncing onto her toes to plant a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Good bye, Mr. Kovalenko.”
“Have a good day-behave.”
The door clicked shut behind her and the large house immediately felt colder, emptier. “Can I take your coat?”
“I cannot stay for long.”
“Long enough for some coffee? A fresh pot should be ready by now.” She didn’t wait for an answer; she simply turned and started back down the hall to the kitchen. He followed, the soles of his shoes creaking against the inlaid floor.
“What news do you bring me?” she asked calmly, refilling her mug, pulling a clean one off the rack and offering it to him. “Please, Alyosha-don’t be so grave. You know I can never be angry with you.”
“Elisabeta, we have lost the book.”
“And the girl?”
“Yes.”
“Her father?”
“Jaswinder eliminated him. Made it look like a mugging gone bad.”
“Did he determine that he had outlived his usefulness, or did he simply let his temper run away from him again?”
“Both are equally possible.”
“Jaswinder has been a good soldier. But it may be time to reassign him. Perhaps even retirement.”
“He is devoted to you. And the cause.”
She nodded thoughtfully, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her steaming coffee. “What do you recommend, old friend?”
“We cannot afford to let the trail grow cold again. I have several at work trying to trace the girl’s movements-she must have the book. We find her, and we will have it.”
“Perhaps… Perhaps it is time for me to be more involved.”
“But Dušana-”
“Can be trusted with Katenka and Ygor. With my father gone, and Mikhail, too, the duty rests on me. The Order is my responsibility, Alyosha. You cannot expect me to neglect it, to constantly delegate where I should lead with action, simply because I have a child?” She sat, crossing her long pale legs heedless of the way her robe parted. Her dark hair had equal sheens of red and gold in the morning light. The pale blue eyes in the vulpine face seemed almost to glow. “Someday, Dušana will take my place. I have to ensure there will be a future for her. Our work now must be done so that she may take up her own work in the years to come.”
Alyosha nodded slowly, mouth a thin, pressed line. “As you wish.”
Her smile was razor bright. “No need to look so funereal. It will be like the old days-before I married and settled down. We will be partners again, fighting the good fight. You cannot tell me that a part of you, at least, is not happy with my decision.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Oh, Alyosha. My dear sweet curmudgeon. Wait a moment and let me dress. I will join you on the rest of your stops today. You are going to inform the rest of the Council, aren’t you?”
“My next stop is to Grigory.”
“Good. While we’re waiting on confirmation of the girl’s location, we’ll ensure that everyone is apprised of the situation. And as soon as we locate her: we will move. We cannot afford to let that book slip through our fingers again.”
She opened her eyes and looked at a room that she had known her whole life. The first room she could remember, a room that had held a crib before the bed she lay in now. And now it seemed strangely different. Too small. The proportions off in subtle but niggling ways. The yellow of the walls too faded, the curtains askew in a way she had never noticed before. The bric-a-brac on the shelves had lost their potency, the warm memories connected to them remote and distant now. Everything here belonged to childhood. And while she knew that three years was hardly any time at all, knew that she was hardly an adult now simply because she’d passed that societal milestone of twenty-one, she also knew that she was a different person. College had changed her. When she left the reservation, she left a piece of herself behind. This place no longer felt quite like home.
But it couldn’t, could it? Not with Uncle gone-
Uncle.
Go.
She sat up. Knew she was sitting up. Turned her head to look at the door, but had a difficult time forcing her eyes to focus. Everything was muddled in her head, cotton damped by fog, the yellow of the morning light casting a haze over the furniture. There was something she had to remember, something important, but it slipped through her fingers like a jackrabbit. Disappeared with a flash of a white tail.
Her hand shook as she raised it to comb the hair back from her face. One shoulder began to goosebump, the skin exposed as the oversized sleeve of her father’s Marines t-shirt slid down her arm. She rubbed at her sleep-crusted eyes, huffed against her palms, and swung her legs out of bed. Her suitcases still sat half-emptied on the floor, their tops flung back and socks wadded in the corners. Home for three weeks and she still hadn’t found the time or motivation to unpack. Probably because this still felt too temporary. It would take longer than three weeks for her to come to terms with the fact that she was done with college-at least for now. That she wouldn’t be moving back into the dorms come August.
For now, she was stuck in that surreal lull between finishing one grand undertaking and picking up the next. After the hard work, the push to finish a four-year program in just three, her brain hadn’t quite turned itself off. It was still puttering along at an analytical, feverish pace. It had been difficult to fall asleep at night, struggling with both the lingering sense that there was still work to be done, more deadlines looming on the horizon, and the feeling that this once familiar place had become a stranger. Or perhaps she was the stranger now…
Perhaps that was the price to pay. She had a degree now; was the first in her family to graduate college. That was an achievement to be proud of-Uncle would have been proud.
Uncle.
Go.
Her hand clenched around the doorknob and she twisted sharply twice before realizing she had accidentally locked it in her fumbling. Her feet were clumsy as she stumbled down the short hall, and she gripped the banister for fear of falling as she started down the stairs. Halfway down she paused, eyes drawn to the framed photos hanging over the faded wallpaper. Her father in full uniform, standing tall and strong and proud before his first ship. One of her mother in a red polka-dotted dress, sitting in a folding chair with a glass of lemonade in hand and a brilliant smile on her face. Herself as a baby in a pink onesie, the older David standing over her in jean overalls with ceremonial red paint on his cheeks. Uncle and his twin in full dress, buckskin fringe and feathered headdress.
And it came back in a rush. Uncle’s face. The sound of his voice. The urgency in his eyes when he took her hand. They are family, Annie.
Head buzzing, she stepped into the kitchen.
Jane looked up from the stove, spatula in hand. Tendrils of hair had escaped her braid to curl against her forehead. Three years and her mother had deeper crow’s feet and a few more streaks of gray; nothing more nor less. “Good morning, sleepy head! Want some eggs? There’s toast already on the table.”
Annie stood in the doorway, blinking blearily at her for a long beat. How to tell her? How to explain? “Yeah. Thanks.”
“How do you want your eggs? Over easy? Scrambled?”
The legs of the chair skidded loudly across the linoleum. She sat, pulled her dark hair back into a loose ponytail with short mechanical movements, and reached for the pitcher of orange juice. “Scrambled would be good.”
“Thought we could go apartment hunting again, see if there’s anything new in your price range. Maybe have lunch with David and Johnnie afterwards. How does that sound? Honey? Are you alright?”
Annie turned to look at the aproned figure wreathed in the steam of the skillet. Her pulse began to thump audibly in her ears; she vaguely remembered her father once telling her that was the echo of the ocean, how life came from the water and our heartbeat never forgot that. Color flooded her face, darkening her cheeks in a rosy blush. “Mom. I saw Uncle last night.”
Jane lowered the spatula slowly. “I see him, too, sweetie. I dream about him a lot. I know how difficult it was for you, being at school when he passed-”
“This wasn’t a dream. It was really him. Uncle Nathaniel was with him. They were both young again-the picture on the staircase, that’s how they looked.”
The pan clattered as she moved it from the lit burner. Wiping her hands on her yellow apron, Jane pulled out a second chair and sat down slowly across from her daughter. She looked at her for a moment, taking in all of the subtle ways she’d changed: the fading blue streak in her hair, the choppy cut of her bangs, the stiffer lines of her shoulders, the way the baggy t-shirt hung on a frame more womanly than girlish. Annie had always been a determined, passionate girl; but college had turned her into a confident, forceful woman. And looking at her now, seeing someone once so familiar now turned unexpected and new, Jane could see Joseph in her. She had something of his bearing, the same piercing look that could pin someone to a wall.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He wanted to talk about Charlie and Robbie.”
“Because of what happened to Robbie’s father?”
“Yes…” Her forehead creased with concentration. “I can’t recall everything he said, but he told me they were going to have to leave. He was worried. Almost frantic. And he said I had to go with them. Insisted on it. …So I don’t think we should go apartment hunting again-at least not until I talk to them.”
“Today? Sweetie, they’ve probably got a lot on their plate right now.”
“I know. But Uncle wouldn’t have Spirit Walked into my dreams if it wasn’t important, right?” She fidgeted with the tiny cross on her hemp bracelet. “You made another casserole for them, didn’t you? I’ll take it over. That’s as good an excuse as any.”
“Okay. Okay. Just…” Jane sighed and shook her head at herself. “You’re a grown woman now, Annie. I guess it’s just taking me a while to remember that. I’m sorry; I don’t mean to talk down to you.”
“I’ve only been back a couple weeks-I’ll give you a grace period for a little while longer,” Annie laughed. “And if you’re still gonna make some eggs, I’ll eat before I head over to Charlie’s. They’re probably not even awake yet.”