Forever Twilight by Patrick Sean Lee (easy books to read in english txt) 📕

“There’s no maybe about it. Those Auroras, at least the one we were in, aren’t spreading out like he said they were.” I felt a little bad for Shawna’s sake after saying that. “Obviously they lied to him. Why? What are they actually up to? I mean, they haven’t attacked us. Us, anyway,” I said, hoping that would extinguish the fire.

Charles came to my rescue. “Have you eaten in the last few days?”

“Not a crumb,” Peter joked. “Not enough time.”

Everyone except Lashawna laughed.

“Then let’s rush you into the kitchen. Three months without food…you both look emaciated! I’m shocked you survived.”

“C’mon, Jude, let’s fix something. I’m starved too.”

The edge lifted as Jude grabbed hold of Lashawna’s waiting hand and they went first into the kitchen. The rest of us followed.

We would sit and run what had happened over the hours—or months—of our little foray across the universe for hours on end. Make some plan to discover something that would help us. IF we were in danger.

All throughout our dinner conversation it kept hitting me that perhaps it wasn’t Jerrick who was pulling the strings; who was consciously deceiving us, rather Mari. The little girl who was no longer a little girl and knew exactly what was going on. More so than Jerrick, Mari had turned extremely cold before she walked away I recalled. How deeply had the change in them gone? Mari, thoroughly. Jerrick had at least hugged Lashawna before he left, taking a lingering love for her with him. Then again, maybe both of them knew only what the invaders wanted them to know. Whatever scenario I came up with regarding their place in all of this made no real sense.

I sat beside Peter only half-listening to the speculations being thrown across the table, until finally, close to midnight, indefatigable Charles took the stage in a finale.

“Okay, here’s what we know,” he said. “Our home was invaded. We don’t know why. Most of our people were murdered, but we weren’t for whatever reason. Hidden somewhere in that reason are two important things. One, they took Mari and Jerrick. Two, they left a potentially deadly instrument of some importance behind—out there in the front yard. What purpose it serves either them or us, we haven’t a clue.

“What remain of the survivors seem to be—forgive me Jude and Kayla, Sammie and Bernard—lacking in humanity. And, we’ve no idea how many survivors still exist outside our immediate zone of civility.”

“Whatever else you might think, I saved the girls,” Bernie, all cleaned up and innocent-faced, broke in.

Peter shot me a look, and then moved his eyes down to the pistol poking out of Munster’s waistband. I wouldn’t have objected had he reached for it. But Charles more or less ignored his half-truth and continued on.

“You two,” he said, looking at Peter and me across the table, “discovered and entered into some sort of space/time warp apparatus, but it seems obvious the majority of the creatures didn’t make use of it to travel here. Individually, or in groups, they do use it. What precisely it’s significance, or the masses of them across the planet, have, we don’t know.” He hesitated and drew in a breath.

“We don’t know a helluva’ lot, do we!” Munster said with a laugh that belied his deeper angst.

“All that aside, I think they’re protecting us. To what end?” I said. Charles merely shrugged his shoulders. The million-dollar question.

“Who’s next?” Denise asked. “Will they continue to cherry-pick us? Take us one by one over the months and years ahead at their leisure and turn us into whatever they’ve turned Jerrick and Mari into? Maybe we’re all just a grand experiment to them.”

Lashawna bristled. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m getting Jerrick back.”

“And just how do you propose to do that?” Peter put to her. “We tried, and he as much as said no.”

“I don’t know, but with or without you, I’m going to…” And she went on about returning to the avocado-alien encampment alone.

Or touching the black tower.

We were tired. Sammie had fallen asleep, sitting all cock-eyed with her head in Cynthia’s lap. Bernie had long ago left the conversation and was eyeing Celia with his gaze fixed on her, his hand moving almost inconspicuously beneath the tablecloth. She broke into a tiny smile. Disgusting for a thousand reasons. Her choice.

“You will not leave alone, nor will you get near the tower,” Charles answered Shawna emphatically.

“Says who?” she spat.

Munster yawned. We were suddenly going in circles.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted,” I said. “Can we continue this tomorrow at breakfast?”

“This morning at breakfast,” Denise corrected me.

“Whatever. I need some sleep.”

Bernie, the cancer among us, was the first to take my cue. He rose, latched onto Celia’s arm and fairly yanked her to her feet.

“Sounds good,” he said anxiously.

“You pig. I should have aimed better.”

“WHAT? I just said I was tired, too!”

I bit my lip. “Yes, go get some rest, Bernie.”

Outside our window the clattering symphony of crickets. A hundred players scattered like spilled marbles across the drive and lawn and orchard beyond. Oblivious. The silver glow of moonlight resting against the raised panes. A soft breeze that in contrast to the light rustled the shears in tiny fits and starts. Shadows deepened in the room into near unfamiliarity, as if our sanctuary was the entry into a spirit realm, or dark forest that extended into infinity, inquisitive eyes blinking, wondering at our approach.

“Don’t turn it on,” I said low to Peter behind me. He followed me in without a word, almost soundlessly closing the door behind us. I walked to the closet, opened the doors, and pulled a clean T from the hanger, then stripped out of my dirty clothes, wishing I’d had the strength or desire to shower the day off me first. I pulled the shirt over my hair, dusted by the tumble into strange lands, and down the mountainside six or seven hours earlier. I could feel Peter’s eyes watching me, wondering like the elves and fairies all around us.

“You’re upset.”

I didn’t answer for a moment. More like confused, Peter. I tugged the shirt hem down over my hips, and then turned.

“We thought we were safe a few weeks ago.”

“We are.”

“We’re not. They give us a few moments to breathe, and then they return. Don’t you see how maddening this new life really is? They take us…”

“It’s our fault. Mari and Jerrick disobeyed the command not to touch the tower. Maybe for different reasons, but they disobeyed.”

“Disobeyed. That’s a joke. Like they’re our mommies and daddies.”

“Like they’re our conquerors.”

Yes, come to think of it they were precisely that.

The bed was made—Peter’s unwritten morning routine. He pulled the sheet and spread down, undressed unceremoniously, and then climbed in to wait for me.

I joined him. Laid my head beneath his chin, my left hand coming to rest on his chest. Safe.

“She’s going to touch the tower,” I whispered dejectedly.

“We can’t watch her every minute.”

“I wonder what will happen?” I felt the slight shrug he answered with.

“Do you think it will kill her?”

“Didn’t kill Mari or Jerrick .”

“Maybe it did, and we’ve seen like zombies that only resemble the old Jerrick and Mari.”

“You watch too many movies.”

I used to watch too many movies.

“Peter, we need to open that damned thing somehow. Before Lashawna touches it and gets herself killed, or worse.”

“We need to get some sleep, or…”

He drew his hands gently across my chest and waited.

So unlike Bernie Beast. So I imagined.

I raised my head, turned it, and searched for his.

We slept late. By the time Peter and I had showered and dressed, and then gone downstairs, everyone except Bernie and Celia was sitting at the table in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I said as cheerily as I could. The fact that Bernie wasn’t present lifted my spirits. Maybe during the short night he’d croaked, and Celia, all worn out, was just sleeping it off totally unaware.

Lashawna and Jude sat at the far end of the table. Still present among us, not exactly beaming like the bright sun outside, but quietly picking at some veggie concoction Cynthia or Denise had whipped up.

“What’s on tap for today?” Peter asked as we took our seats.

Munster chimed in with an almost-excited look on his face. “I was thinking of heading down to Pendleton…”

“No you weren’t,” Cynthia cut him off.

“Well, I was gonna’ ask you to come along. I need ta’ get out of here for awhile.”

“The water pump is making a racket,” Charles rescued him. “I think you should have a look at it. Maybe you…” he hesitated. “…and Cyn can go into town and get replacement parts. Or a new pump if need be.”

“After classes,” Denise said with a grin. The contented look on Munster’s face vanished.

“Where are Tweedlehorney and Tweedleme-too?” Cynthia asked. “God, it’s nearly ten! Did either of you hear them when you finally woke up?”

“No, thank God. Maybe she killed him. Or he managed to finally kill himself,” I said.

“Huh?” Sammie.

“Shame on you, Amelia,” Charles muttered.

“Just kidding.”

“Munster, let’s target practice for awhile after we finish eating! Then you and me and Cynthia can all go into Marysville. That would be fun,” Sammie said, sitting up. “I need some new clothes. We could stop at Target or Macy’s!”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he answered drolly.

“After History and English Lit,” Denise reminded them.

Peter dug into the vegetables and dry toast as the banter continued, but I wasn’t particularly hungry, especially for lettuce and beets and no bacon or eggs or butter. I was tempted to go back upstairs and burst into Bernie and Celia’s bedroom. Maybe he had died. Actually, even though the thought was nice, I decided I didn’t care. I rose. The conversations ended abruptly, everyone’s eyes flashing to me.

“Just going to go out onto the porch for a bit. Sammie, maybe you should go wake Bernie and Celia.”

No, no. Bad suggestion. The longer he wasn’t in my presence, the better.

“I’ll go,” Jude said. I was at the front door by the time I heard her footsteps on the stairs.

Outside I sat down on the top step of the porch and gazed out at the serenity of the property. The circular drive bordered by verdant green grass, its health and manicuring overseen by Charles. Cynthia, guiding Munster and Sammie had spaded a ring between the gravel drive and the lawn, set drip irrigation, and then planted a flowerbed from seed. Far