touch (23 page)

Glancing at Morik, I saw he watched the group of men who
still watched me.  I nudged his foot to get his attention and whispered, “Told
you should have gone first.”  Then, I stuck out my tongue at him playfully.  It
had the desired result.  The orange building in his eyes behind his yellow
glasses faded instantly.

Executing the second try with more finesse than the first,
the ball sailed straight down the alley knocking over several of the pins.  No
buzzer.  With relief, I sat next to Morik my turn over for the moment.  He
grinned at me as he stood and removed his ball from the return.

He moved with grace releasing the ball in a fluid motion
that the group next to us noticed.  It flew down the lane knocking over all of
the pins.  Even over the noise of the games, and the music piping over the sound
system, the crashing sound seemed a little harsher than the ones around us.  I
stared at the end of the alley spotting a tiny piece of something in the pin
area.

In the lane next to us, I overheard one of the older men
asking another, “did you see that?”

When he came back to the ball return, I quickly popped up to
whisper a warning about our audience.  I wasn’t sure, but had the feeling it
wasn’t exactly normal to crack pins during bowling.

Taking my turn, I knocked down a total of eight pins between
my two tries.  Morik again threw a strike.  He didn’t crack any pins this time
apparently taking my prior warning in consideration.  The men in the group next
to us took turns watching us.

Worried that Morik’s skill on top of his already unusual
appearance would draw unwanted attention, I set out to distract him from his
game.  Okay, fine.  I just didn’t want him to score so much higher than me.

When he was about to throw his next ball, I said quietly,
“I’m really thirsty.”  As I suspected, he heard me just fine, and it distracted
him enough to throw off his roll to avoid another strike.

He turned and asked me what I’d like then went to the
counter.  He came back with two sodas, which he set on the table behind our
lane before going back to finish his turn.

Since three pins remained, one to the right and two to the
left, I didn’t think he’d get them all.  He proved me wrong.

Disgruntled, but hiding it well, I took my turn.  I felt
more comfortable releasing the ball and no longer worried about my fingers
sticking, although I still didn’t attempt to put them in any further.  Trying
to mimic Morik’s fluid form, I managed to get seven of the pins down leaving
three on the far right.  By sheer luck, I gained a spare.

Moving out of our bowling area, I picked up my soda and
waited until he was about to release the ball before taking a sip.  The loud
slurp caused a gutter ball and I almost choked on the soda trying not to
laugh.  He turned to look at me his face carefully blank.  When he caught my
smirk, he shook his head a slight twitch in his lips indicating he knew my
game.

After that, he returned the favor, each of us trying one
distraction after another.  With my already poor game, nothing he tried made
much difference in my performance.

By the eighth panel, the man behind the counter brought a
pizza over to our table.  Moving away from Morik while he walked to the ball
return, I caught the brown swirling in his eyes and his barely suppressed
smile.  He enjoyed the game we played and not just the bowling.

I plucked a piece of pepperoni off the top of the pizza and
waited for his approach to plop it in my mouth humming with delight.  He swung
the ball back, but I sensed his distraction.  I picked another piece off and
whispered, “Do you want a taste?”

His head whipped around as the ball flew from his fingers. 
He watched me as I watched the ball.  Gutter ball.  In the next lane’s gutter! 
I started laughed holding up the piece of pepperoni.  Thankfully, no one
currently used that lane.

He glanced back at the ball and then stalked toward me. 
Even the group of men next to us laughed, having caught on to our antics early
on.  Morik didn’t laugh though as he approached.  Black consumed his eyes.

My laughter died, but my smile remained.  He didn’t worry
me.

I playfully held up the pepperoni.  He surprised me by
eating it from my fingers, his tongue brushing the tips.  Eyes wide, my smile
faded and we stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

When I didn’t say anything, he flashed a small smile before
retrieving his ball.  I slowly released the breath I’d held.  He confused me
and unsettled me.  And made me nervous sometimes, but content, maybe even
happy, the rest of the time.

Neither of us did well for the rest of the game.  I
continued to distract him, but didn’t use the pizza again.

When we finished the last frame, with Morik the clear
winner, we sat at the table to finish our cooled food.

“You’ve bowled before?” I asked when he sat next to me.

“Yes.  Several well-known bowlers made a deal asking for
certain abilities.  When people start asking for things, I get curious.  I
studied the game and found that I like it.”

I didn’t dwell on which bowlers he might have helped.  “How
can you bowl though?  There are usually a lot of people in bowling alleys.”

“It’s been awhile,” he said quietly before eating his pizza.

No doubt.  With the exception of a new deal, I was the key
to his contact with people.  I wondered again if choosing him would be unfair
to him.  Would he be happier with someone else?  I understood being lonely and
wanting someone to talk to.

We finished the pizza while discussing bowling and the
techniques he’d learned.

“Thank you for this,” I said as we waited in line to trade
in our shoes.

“Any time,” he said looking at me through his yellow lenses.

I saw the brown floating in his irises and smiled.

*    *    *    *

Mom stood at the front door waiting for us when we arrived
home.  I’d forgotten to tell someone where we’d be.  Though to be fair, I
hadn’t known myself until we got there.

Morik killed the bike and waited for me to hop off the
back.  Even though my legs were cold, they still moved with an agility I’d
gained over the last few days.

“Don’t bother turning it off.  You can go,” she said her
curt voice ringing clear in the yard.  For a moment, I thought she wanted me to
go.  “Tess.  Inside.  Now.”

Okay, she was furious.  I’d broken my promise to let her
know where I was going and when I’d be back.  But she had to beat me home by
just minutes.  The person I should have worried the most, Gran, wasn’t even at
the door.

I pulled the helmet off my head and turned toward Morik to
apologize for getting us both in trouble.

“Go on, get!” she yelled.

I froze looking at Morik shame flooding me over my mother’s
behavior.  His face remained impassive despite having just been talked to as if
he were a dog.

“Would you mind waiting a minute?” I asked quietly while
handing over the helmet.

He nodded slightly and glanced at my mom.

Steeling myself, I faced her, closing the distance between
us so what I said wouldn’t carry to the neighbors.  While I walked I fought to
cool my temper.  It never did any good to yell.

When I stood on the front stoop, she moved back to let me
inside, her mouth drawn in a tight line.  I didn’t go in.

“How could you say that?  You owe him an apology.”

She snorted sarcastically.  “No, I don’t.  Get inside. 
Dinner’s almost ready.”

Taking a calming breath, I tried to reason with her.  “Mom,
I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note.  I get that you’re mad.  But it doesn’t give
you the right to treat him like that.”

It made her angrier.  “No right?!  I have every right.  You
seem to forget that he’s the reason our families have suffered for over two
hundred years.”

Was that her problem?  She blamed him for all our troubles? 
I closed my eyes briefly instead of rolling them.  I’d thought when I’d
explained the story, they would all see it in the same light I did.

“No.  Belinda is the reason.  He was lonely and only asked
for a chance.  She was selfish and wouldn’t give him one.  Because of her,
we’ve lived in ignorance and fear.  That’s done now mom.”

Her face went white.  “You’ve chosen,” she whispered in
horror.

“I’m giving him a chance,” I clarified.  “And you should
too.”

“You can’t trust him.  If he were nice or honest, he’d
remove the curse from us instead of continuing to try to get close to you.”

She didn’t understand the rules to his deals.  My fault for
not explaining what I’d learned.  But I doubted the explanation would have
helped.  She just couldn’t seem to truly accept Morik.

“I’ll be home before nine,” I said not bothering to reply to
her last comment.  I knew if I went in with her, we’d just fight more.

The door slammed shut before I made it off the stoop.  I
cringed at the violence of it.  Furious didn’t seem to cover Mom’s current
emotion.

Morik watched me approach his face impassive.

“Mind if we go to your house for a while?” I asked
apologetically.

He nodded and handed me the helmet.  I slid it over my head
not looking back at the house.  Why couldn’t she see she was making everything
harder on me?  I wanted to do what was right for all of us.

The ride to his house passed surprisingly quickly.  We
turned into a back alley near my house and then suddenly we appeared in his
garage still sitting on his motorcycle.  Grateful I didn’t have to endure the
icy winds for too long, I appreciated his ability to pop in and out of places.

Tugging off my gloves, I stuffed them into the helmet and
left them on the bike seat.  Morik led me in through the side door and
immediately went to the thermostat setting it to seventy five from fifty three.

“It will warm up in a bit.  Keep your jacket on until it
does,” he said moving toward me.

I nodded and looked around his mostly barren yet tastefully
decorated house.  “Why don’t you have any of your things here?”

“Things?”

“You’ve bowled, you’ve created shell combs.  Over the years,
you had to have collected – I don’t know … things.  Memories.”

He reached out and took one of my hands in his leading me to
the couch.  “I keep those hidden away.  Neighbors tend to look through your
windows.  Some of my ‘things’ would raise questions.”

It made sense.  Sitting down, I looked up at him and
apologized for my mom.

“She has every reason to be mad.  She’s right.  If I were
honest and nice I would release you.”

“You said there’s always a price.”

He shrugged and sat next to me, close, but not touching. 
Suddenly, I knew that he would be the one to pay.  An eternity of isolation. 
Humans used him to acquire what they wanted and because of his loneliness, he
went along with it.  What choice did he really have if he wanted contact, any
contact, with another being?

“Morik?  You mentioned others like you.  Why don’t you talk
to them?”

He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the
couch, thoughtfully looking up at the ceiling through his yellow glasses.

“We are all different.  Some are so different it is
difficult to spend more than a minute together without becoming extremely
agitated.  Many of my kind before me are violent and confrontational.  Not many
were created after me.  Most of those who were, already faded into
inexistence.”  He turned his head to look at me.  “Without purpose, they had no
reason to exist.”

“The older ones have purpose?”

He nodded and looked away.  “Many disasters that befall this
world are their doing.  They are chaos.  Nature is control.  Together, there is
balance.  Long ago, humans began to create their own chaos.  The younger ones,
no longer needed, ceased to exist.”

“Then, your purpose is to cause chaos?”

He smiled mischievously.  “It was, long ago.  But I quickly
saw what would happen to me and started making deals with humans, creating a
new purpose for myself.  It was a loophole that few of us could interact with
humans at all.  Again, just to create chaos.  Some of my earlier deals led to
revelations that led to revolutions.  Humans interested me.  Their diversity
and persistence were like nothing I’d witnessed before.  I wanted to be a part
of that.  I wanted a reason to exist.”

We sat together quietly, each lost in thought.  His own
persistence made sense.  A two hundred-year-old deal was the only thing keeping
him alive.

I tentatively laced my fingers through his and leaned my
head on his shoulder listening to the air blow through the vents.  Feeling like
a rope in a game of tug-of-war, I tried to impartially look at both sides. 
Morik made the deal because he felt lonely.  Mom had flipped out because being
with him scared her.  Which had more pull on me?  His loneliness.  I felt the
same isolation because of the touch and the consequence of it.  Despite my
talks with Mom, she didn’t see that I couldn’t accept choosing anyone other
than Morik.  I understood her fear though.  What would choosing him bring me?

Soon the room felt toasty and I sat up to discard the
jacket.  My movement broke the melancholy mood in the room.  He got us both
sodas and then dug out a checkers board.

For the next three hours, we talked and played games.  After
the first game, I insisted he take off his hat and glasses when we were alone. 
I watched the different colors swirling in his eyes.  For the most part, brown
dominated them with an occasional wisp of black or green.

Just before nine, I put on my jacket.  He gathered me in his
arms instantly transporting us to just outside my front door.

“What do you do when you leave me for the night?” I asked
idly, not yet wanting to go inside.

He looked uncomfortable for a minute then admitted, “I never
really leave.”  Raising my eyebrows in surprise, I waited for him to explain. 
“Most nights, I talk to your Aunt.  She doesn’t sleep either.”