DreamWalkers-Chapter 2

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My heart gets lost like a message

My head is on the clouds and I don’t get it

And so I’m fashionably numb

Sometimes it helps to forget where we come from

Out of the mire we were torn from

Remember, out of the fire again but I’m an ember

I hold a banner for you but it’s upside down

You got a question or two but I’m tongue tied now

They rang the bell until Lincoln, Medea’s father, opened the door wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms, his blond hair was rumpled and his face wrinkled with sleep. Behind his glasses his blue eyes immediately went to Medea before letting out a sigh of relief, his hands gripped his daughter’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, thank God. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Cybill, her mother nearly knocked her husband over in order to hold her daughter. Her long dark blonde hair curled wildly against her shoulders, her gray eyes blurred with exhaustion. She tripped over her long thick flannel robe and bumped against Medea who in return bumped against Sen. He held her elbows and straightened her, Sen saw a strange look on her face as she leaned away from him.

“She’s fine,” Yukiko assured them before her parents accidentally shoved them all off the porch. “Twisted her ankle some but she has all her toes. She could probably do with a hot shower though.”

Her mother pulled them inside, Sen holding Medea steady as she limped into the foyer. “We didn’t realize she was gone until we got your message, Yuki.” Dark circles vivid under her eyes, Cybill’s lips trembled with worry. Underneath his hands, Sen could feel Medea’s muscles tightened. She didn’t like to distress her parents but from the way Medea looked at her socked feet, she was taking this personally. Too personally. Guilt rolled off her body, thick and poisonous.

His eyes flicked to his grandmother who flapped her hands at Medea’s parents. “Don’t fuss, now. Put some hot drinks in her, get her inside a hot shower and she’ll be fine. She won’t be if we keep standing here. Link, you should check her ankle since you’re a doctor and all, and Cybill, how about some of your famous hot chocolate? And marshmallows. That’s a proper welcome to the neighborhood for my grandson.”

Sen wasn’t surprised when both adults followed Yukiko’s orders like meek lambs, no one dared to oppose his grandmother when she started gesturing with her hands, that path leads to pain and humiliation. You could tell they were anxious about their daughter but seemed to trust Yukiko’s assessment of their daughter’s condition. Even Medea seemed more relaxed now that Yukiko had distracted her parents, she followed them to the kitchen, shrugging his hand away and hobbling stubbornly, her face set in a pleasant mask.

“Grandson?” Lincoln hovered near his daughter when she lowered herself to a stool at the kitchen island. Cybill had immediately busied herself on the stove, it was a big kitchen, a cook’s kitchen, you could tell by the lived-in feel of the room, the efficient way that everything was put into place. Sen watched as Cybill grated chocolate and sorted out spices and mugs and flit about the room, she looked comfortable here, the lines on her face seemed to soften as she concentrated on the task at hand. He caught Medea watching her mother from the corner of her eye, her shoulders lowered from her defensive hunch as she watched her mother’s weariness slowly easing away.

Sen smiled to Lincoln and held out a hand. “Sen Kimura. Nice to meet you, Mr...”

“Lincoln Draven. Nice to meet you, Sen. Any family of Yukiko is ours.”

Lincoln grasped his hands in a strong grip, Sen could feel the calluses on his fingertips. This was a man who was used to working with his hands. Sen wondered whether he did carpentry since the kitchen island and the stools seemed handmade.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Draven.” He sat when Lincoln gestured to the kitchen stools and chose a seat near one edge of the island where he could watch Medea and her parents. Her blond, golden-skinned, light-color eyed parents. Medea with her pale freckled skin, her dark hair, and eyes and small stature couldn’t be more different than her athletic, robust-looking parents if she had painted herself blue and spoke another language.  

“So, you’re moving in with your grandmother?” Cybill asked. “What school are you going to?”

“Oba-san tells me it’s the same school that Medea goes to.”

Cybill beamed at him. “Really? That’ll be nice for you to already have a friend in a new school. Are you the same age? Maybe you’ll be in some of her Medea’s classes.”

“Yeah, having a familiar face would be great.” Sen ignored the grimace that flickered over Medea’s face.

Cybill seemed to brighten even more as she put a mug of hot chocolate in front of him, letting her husband passed the others. “And it’ll be great to know Yuki’s boy will be there with Medea.”

Medea jerked in her seat, he didn't know whether that was because her father was checking out her ankle or because of her mother’s suggestion. “He has better things to do than babysit me, mom.”

“Honey.” Cybill admonished her in that tone of voice that mom’s do, you know, the kind that makes you feel horrible and guilty for being such an ungrateful child. Especially after the many, many months, she had carried you inside her womb and the many, many hours of pain when she had to—you know the deal. “It’s not like I’m asking him to shadow your steps, I’m just suggesting that you’ll keep an eye out on each other. He’s Yuki’s grandson, he’s practically family.”

“You just met him five minutes ago,” Medea said in the aggrieved tone of teenagers everywhere when dealing with parent logic.

Sen hid a smile behind his mug, and Yukiko wasn’t wrong about the quality of Cybill’s hot chocolate. “This is really delicious, Mrs. Draven.’

Medea could tell from the smile on her mother’s face that she was thinking of adopting him. “I’ll make a thermos for you to drink at home.”

“That’ll be great thanks.”

Yukiko gulped on her hot chocolate then patted Sen on the back. “Okay, we’ve bothered you long enough, it’s time for us to go. Medea needs her rest.”

Cybill screwed the lid on a medium-sized thermos and handed it to Sen with a smile. “Here you go, honey, I’ve also packed you some banana chocolate chip brownies I baked this afternoon.”

Sen gave her a grin. It was hard to battle Cybill’s eager to please demeanor. Besides, brownies. “Thanks again, Mrs. Draven.”

Yukiko snorted. “Now you’ve done it, as soon as he tastes your brownies, you’ll never get rid of him.”

Cybill poked Yukiko with a manicured finger. “Don’t pretend like you’re not going to rip open that container and stuff your face, Yuki. You have the worse case of the sweet tooth that I’ve ever seen.”

Yukiko took the container with a grin. “Sen is worse.”

Cybill blinked before laughing because that was saying something. “Then he’s welcome to my kitchen and my shop.”

“Shop?”

“My wife has the best pastry shop in town, you should come by and show him around, Yuki,” Lincoln said, his hand curved on his daughter’s shoulders as if wanting—needing—to make sure that she was safe. Sen could only imagine what they had felt when they’ve seen their daughter’s empty bed, not knowing where she’d gone or whether she was safe. And this wasn’t a one-time deal, he could tell from their reactions that this was just one horrible night of many.

“I will, was planning to. I have a need for your chocolate chip coconut cookies, Cybill, I’ve been wanting them for a couple of days now.”

Cybill nodded. “I’ll be sending a couple dozen to the office then.”

Yukiko smiled. “Mighty kind of you. Come on, gaki, we’ll show ourselves out.”

“Thanks, Mr. Draven, Mrs. Draven.” He looked at Medea who sat silently, sipping on her chocolate. Her eyes slid toward him, something like shame and embarrassment made her look away.

“Thanks for helping out.” She said quietly. Maybe it was her crying session at the car or maybe because of her parents’ presence, gone was the girl with the expressive face and the sarcastic remarks. In her wake was a self-possessed, quiet girl who watched everything with an apprehensive gaze. The second she stepped into the house, it was like she set her personality on mute.

Her forehead wrinkled as if she saw something in his face that she didn’t like before gathering herself together. “Oh, right, your coat.” She made a move to take it off but he lifted a hand to stop her.

“That’s all right, I’ll get it tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Or later today. If that’s all right?”

Medea turned thoughtful eyes at him as if she couldn’t quite sort him out before nodding slowly. “I guess.”

Sen looked at her parents. “I’ll drop by later if that’s okay?”

Both Cybill and Lincoln nodded, a pleased smile on their faces. Medea watched as Sen wrapped her parents around his little finger. There was something easy about Sen, something so steady and rock-solid that her parents seemed to relax with him the more they converse. He had a way of standing in place and making that space his and woe to those who wanted for him to move. But it made her even more wary of him. Out of habit, she suspected everything that came easily.

“Well, we better get going.” Yukiko stood after checking Medea’s ankle a second time. “Better wrap that ankle later, Link.”

“I think I can manage that.” He said dryly.

Sen nodded to her two parents, his eyes switching from her parents’ face to hers. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was thinking. She had seen that look on other people’s faces for as long as she lived. She squashed the ball of resentment that squirmed inside her belly. Some days, she wished that she looked just a little bit like her parents. Some days she was angry that her parents didn’t look a bit like her. Some days she questioned why her parents chose her to be their daughter.

Medea didn’t like the way Sen was looking at her as if he knew what she was thinking. “Mom, can you help me to the bathroom?”

Cybill immediately changed course to her side. “Of course, honey.”

Medea waved half-heartedly to Yukiko and Sen, turning her back to them immediately. She saw her father gave Yukiko the look, he wanted to know where she was found, how she had behaved. When her mother would be glad to just have her back to them whole, her father had to understand. It was one of the reasons why her condition was more of a strain to her father than to her mother. Night terrors and sleepwalking were still something that couldn’t be understood by medical science, though the physical and mental effects on a person were real enough. As was the toll it took on the family.


In the car, Sen glanced at his grandmother. “So, Medea?”

“Night terrors, sleepwalking, sleep deprivation and depression, all the works and the baggage that comes with it.”

“So, she sleepwalked all the way from her house to the Lihara forest?”

Yukiko shrugged. “She’d gone further on other occasions.”

He turned on the sign and turned left. “The scars on her wrists...”

“Yes. And a couple more from her nightly strolls.”

“That bad?”

Her voice was grim. “Worst.”

“Her parents, she doesn’t look a bit like them.”

“She’s adopted.”

He cast his thoughts to Medea and her parents, it wouldn’t have been easy to look so different from the rest of her family, to see the questioning looks she’d get whenever they were together. It wouldn’t have been easy to look like you didn’t belong. As Japanese-American, Sen knew what it felt to look different, knew how it felt to be singled out. Not American enough for the Americans, not Japanese enough for the Japanese, but at least he wasn't the only one in his family that dealt with the same problem.

But regardless of how they looked, Sen could tell they were a real family, he’d seen the worry in their eyes, the relief when her father met them at the door. The shaking in her mother’s hand as she enveloped Medea in a careful hug. Blood didn't make a family, love did. Even with the way Medea had stiffened up, faced with her parents’ worry, he could tell she loved them.

“So, she’s the one you talked about. The one you want us to watch over.”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

Yukiko glanced at him. “So, you’ll help her?”

“I’ll ask what the others think first.”

Yukiko sighed. “Do you have to?”

“We are a team, oba-san. I may be the team leader, but that doesn’t mean I get to make all the decisions.”

“Your team consists of an adrenalin junkie and a self-absorbed girl who can think of nothing but flirt with anything that moves.” She grumped. “You know my offer is still open.”

A spurt of annoyance made him frown. “I don’t need another team, oba-san. I’m fine with my own.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“I’ll get to say ‘I told you so’ later.”

Sen smiled. “That’s fine. You’re my grandmother, it’s your duty.”

Soon as they got home, he took off his damp clothes and went into the shower. The irritation he felt persisted and he turned on the hot water in full blast. While it’s true that his grandmother was at home in the wild—she could and had survived in a jungle with nothing but a canteen of water and a knife—but for her home, only the best of modern appliances, including the plumbing. Sen sighed as hot water cascaded down his tense body, he and his team had headed out three days ago and he still felt the ache of the wound on his right shoulder. It was closed now and only a long pink scar was left as a reminder of the danger that had to be dealt with.

An adrenalin junkie and a narcissist, he couldn’t say that she was wrong, but they were more than that. And their record stated that. They were one of the best and he was proud of it, they were proud of it and helping Medea would add to that record. The prejudice they had to deal with shouldn’t bother him, it had been two years since he and his team proved the doubters that they were wrong. That his team worked and worked well. They set the record, they were the best, and they were the youngest recruits ever in history. But his grandmother’s offer still stung and her questions and sly jabs made him wonder. His grandmother was—and still is—the best in their line of work. If she had doubts, there must be something wrong, but he couldn’t see it. And that ticked him off. He was the team leader, he was supposed to see everything.

But she came to him for help with Medea.

He was there when Yukiko heard the steady beep on her phone, the way she had dropped everything and started packing. The tension in her face as she led him, her eyes focused on her phone screen. She cared deeply for Medea, and she had come to him for help. That meant something.

And Medea...he recalled how she had looked inside the forest, the way she curled into herself in the cold, her face so pale that the dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises, the freckles across her nose jumped in relief. The short cap of her hair made her cheeks look rounder, her eyes bigger, young and pitiful. Her teeth were chattering and it hurt to look at the relief she felt when she saw Lee Loo, the way she dug her fingers into her fur as if making sure the dog was really there. That it wasn’t all in her head. Somehow, Sen had a feeling that she had to do that often, questioning what was real and what was not.

Medea, an unfortunate name for an unfortunate girl. He wondered how her parents could give her that name.

He could still feel the way she shuddered against his back every time a cold wind slapped at their faces, it was lucky he and his grandmother were already close by. She must have been terrified, although she looked more tired than petrified, as if she was so tired she had no energy left to feel fear.

Sen dragged a towel across his damp hair and peered at the clock on the wall, decided to get some shut-eye before he had to wake up for morning training. He pulled on sweat pants and threw himself down on the bed and wondered whether Medea would get any sleep or would she spend the rest of the dark staring at the ceiling.

***

Medea stared at the ceiling like she always had. It wasn't only because her foot was aching, it was because...well, because. She was finally clean and although the warmth of the hot shower was still on her skin, she still felt cold inside.

A sharp ping came from her cell phone, she intended to ignore it but her body moved automatically. She squinted against the backlight and raised her eyebrows when she saw the email address that popped out on the screen.

She sat up, wincing when she knocked her bandaged foot against the edge of her bed frame. Again, she was grateful that her father was a doctor, she couldn’t even imagine how much her hospital bills would amount to if that wasn’t the case. As it was her hospital file could give someone a concussion if she ever needed to use it as a weapon.

Grabbing her laptop she opened the email and clicked on the download button. She connected her iPod and updated her playlist.

Lying back down she inserted her ear buds and waited. A low somber note, sweet and sad drifted into her ears and she closed her eyes and breathed out a long breath, her stiff muscles uncoiling onto the surface of the bed, that sick ball inside her stomach loosening. She rode the sound of music, letting it drag her down into darkness with long spidery fingers.

Copyright © 2014 by D.F. Jules

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