Languedoc, South of France
The ancient patriarch stepped into a rut between the rows of grapevines, teetered, and caught himself at the last moment with his cane. “Merde,” he muttered to himself. He stopped to watch the sunlight dance between the swaying vines, turned his face to the sun and felt its warmth. With his health failing, there would not be so many more opportunities to enjoy the sun. He turned his attention to the vines and snapped off a sprig from the nearest one.
It was dry and as he rolled it under his fingers, it crumbled. Each year the harvest became more meager; this year the dry vines would yield no product. He sighed and turned to look back at the manse. From this distance it looked charming and elegant, a large white rectangle with green shutters, but he knew it was crumbling as well.
“Papa,” a voice called. Michael approached him and made a move as if to help him. But the old man glared at him and Michael backed away. “I left you sitting on the veranda. What are you doing out here?”
“Bah! You are not taking care of the place,” he yelled, his voice cracking weakly, lacking the power of his youth.
Michael looked at the arid, dusty dirt. “The meeting. I came to get you for the meeting, Papa.”
“Oui, let us go then.”
Jacques headed toward the manse, attempting to stay ahead of his son. But, even with the assistance of a cane he could not keep up and Michael moved half a pace ahead of him. He could not stay in front forever. Soon everything would belong to this idiot son, this despicable, frightened, man-boy. He would pass everything to him, even the secret. He shook his head, doubting whether Michael could be entrusted to guard the secret.
Usually families dispersed over time, but this family had stayed in close proximity for many years, centuries even. When Michael pushed open the peeling, warped door, holding it open for his father, he noted that the relatives had already arrived. His cousin, Luc, stood in front of the window, legs apart, silhouetting his powerful physique. The couples separated, women going into the kitchen, men moving toward the large salon. The youngest among them was middle-aged, as if the family were fading away too. It was a somber gathering, quiet tones without the brightness and laughter of children. Michael wrinkled his nose with vague disgust at the faint, yet distinct odor of the aged. Although he found it repugnant to sit in this stuffy, dilapidated room, with its threadbare rug and furniture, every fiber of his psyche rebelled against the thought of what would occur next, in the basement of the manse.
His father was already sitting in a corner, holding court. Michael moved closer to hear what his latest orders would be.
“The girl could destroy everything we believe in. She is a threat that must be stopped,” Jacques said, as the others nodded in agreement.
“But Papa,” Michael timidly interjected, “The chasseurs are watching her and the boy...I thought you...after the last attack...they are young. They know nothing. They are powerless...”
“The father is gone and now the boy will take up the pursuit until the secret is exposed.”
The elderly men around the room again nodded their allegiance to Jacques, their leader.
“And the girl, too. She is the key. She knows...something,” Jacques continued.
“They must be eliminated,” Luc concurred. He had beady eyes and a hooked nose, giving him the look of a bird of prey.
Michael thought with distaste that even though Luc was in his sixties, he was always ready to jump in and usurp Michael’s position as Jacque’s heir.
“But, after the last attack, you agreed. They are just children. No need to harm them,” Michael said. He attempted a bold tone but his voice had a whiny hint to it.
Jacques leaned forward in his chair, his eyes wide, mouth open, revealing decrepit teeth. His brown, weathered face reminded Michael of a snake. He brought his cane up with two hands and brought it straight down on the wood-planked floor with every bit of strength he could muster. After the resounding boom, there was dead silence. Jacques stared at his son and said, “Stop them.”
Michael lowered his head.
****
The next morning Ty's alarm woke him. He hit the sleep button a few times, fervently wishing he could drowse a little longer. He finally rolled out of bed and headed downstairs with a blanket wrapped around him. He found a cup of tea on the counter, reheated it in the microwave, and opened the French door leading to the patio. Ashi was sitting cross-legged on a lounge chair, meditating. Usually, Ty would join her but today he sat quietly in the chair next to hers and watched her.
Her face was tilted up toward the sun with a little, blissful smile on it. The warm breeze wafted her hair back from her face. Her face was so bright that Ty didn’t know if the sun was illuminating her face or if it was the other way around.
Ty thought about his conversation with Jenna the night before and how he had so vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for Ashi. As he stared at her, his wish for his confusion to be lifted was granted, consolidating his thoughts into one single grand feeling. He loved her. He loved her so much he could feel it in his heart like it was expanding. He flashed on a picture of the Grinch, when his small heart got bigger and bigger until it burst its frame. She was the most amazing person he had ever met—no she was the most amazing person on the planet. He held back an irrational urge to put his arms around her and hold her.
He sighed. Will she ever think I’m special, ever want to kiss or hold me, ever love me the way I love her, he wondered. She loves everybody, belongs to everybody.
Ashi’s teardrop eyes opened and she turned her lovely face slowly with a wide smile. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” Ty said. His mind was storming with thoughts but he forced a calm attitude.
She looked at him as if she didn't believe him, but did not press the question.
“My fan club is still outside. Did you notice?” he asked.
Ashi shook her head. “Do you want to stay home today?”
“I’m going to have to leave the house some time. Today is as good a day as any other. Maybe some senator will be caught with his mistress today and they’ll all go away, onto a better story.”
Ashi giggled. “I am ready to go. I will make you breakfast while you shower.”
“Okay.” Ty was suddenly wildly appreciative that a holy princess, a tulka, would deign to make him breakfast.
Leaving the house was simple. They merely walked to the driveway as the reporters called questions from across the street. The security men did a good job keeping them from getting too close.
Ashi was by Ty’s side almost every second of the day, reminding Ty of the painful, aching love he now acknowledged. His other painful emotion was guilt. He cared so much for Jenna; he never wanted to hurt her.
At lunchtime the usual group gathered at their table. Jenna said hi and smiled at Ty and Ashi, but her eyes were red and swollen. She joined in the conversation as if she were determined not to let her distress show. Eduardo, Kerry, and their friend, Christy joined them.
Christy and Kerry chattered away with Eduardo and Ashi occasionally interjecting a comment. Ty tried to catch Jenna’s eye to see how she was faring. She stubbornly refused eye contact as she directed her conversation to the others. She looked miserable. Still, he was relieved that it appeared she was going to remain part of the group. When he called a team meeting for that night, Jenna said she would come. And, he was happy Kerry and Christy were present with their endless prattling. It would have been an uncomfortably silent lunch without them.
****
When everyone arrived they gathered in the family room. Jenna sat on the floor, far away from Ty. Ty resisted sitting next to Ashi and Eduardo settled himself right next to her.
Ty recounted what happened during their trip to Newport. He leaned forward on the couch and clasped his hands.
“Someone really wants to kill me. They murdered my father and it is apparent they’ll kill whoever is with me. Anyone want out?”
“I’m not quitting now. Not after everything we’ve been through,” Cheryl declared, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Me neither,” Therese said.
“I’m scared, but that’s not going to stop me,” Jenna said.
“I’m in this for the long haul,” Eduardo added.
“All right. Then we have to take a long, hard look at what we have. We must have some really important information and not even realize what we have.”
“I have the dots from the Newport Tower,” Ashi said.
Ty nodded and Eduardo rolled his eyes.
“What else do we have?” Therese asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve thought and thought about it and I have no idea,” Ty said.
“Maybe this man thinks we have something that we really don’t have,” Ashi said.
Ty rested his chin in his hand. “I’m stuck. I feel like we’re at a dead end. How about the professors? Do they have anything?”
“No, nothing,” Cheryl said.
“But they think you have something. It seems your father called one of them before he died, excited about a great lead,” Therese said.
“That’s right. The night before he died he told Ashi and I about it but he didn’t even give a hint of what it might be.”
Ty saw something out of the corner of his eye at the dark window and he felt his heart begin to thud. When he looked again it was his own reflection he saw moving. Scared of my own shadow, he thought.
During the rest of the week he tried to shake the jumpy feeling but he couldn’t. It appeared that the ambush on his road trip to Newport affected him more than he thought.
He stayed in the house unless he was going to school, wondering if he’d see the black Lexus again.
****
A couple of days later he got a text from Eduardo. “U have to check out YouTube,” it read. Ty looked at the home page and was stunned when he saw it…under the heading of “Most Popular” was a picture of Ashi with her hand on the cyclist’s leg. It had already gotten 476,209 views. It was going viral, getting more publicity than if it had been replayed over and over on CNN.
He clicked on it. It was unmistakable, clear and focused. It was Ashi, smiling and talking, the cyclist beginning to fall in the background. The camera swung to the cyclist and zoomed in on him. It was horrifying to watch him tumbling head over heels down the stone steps and land, unmoving, with his leg twisted at an impossible angle and the white bone sticking up through his skin. The video went out of focus for a few seconds when Ty’s arm dropped as he ran towards the injured man. The remainder of the four-minute video showed Ashi healing the man of his gruesome injuries. It was indisputable. There was no room for doubt. There was no way this could have been faked. Ty looked at the sidebar and saw that other people who had been at the scene had posted their own videos of the same incident, further substantiating the healing.
Ty did not reply to Eduardo with a text. He picked up his phone and called him, furious.
“How could you put this on YouTube, Eduardo, and then post it on facebook? You’re friends with everybody in the school. That means everybody in the school has seen it.”
“Forget about everybody in the school. Did you see how many hits it got? Pretty soon everyone in the world will have seen it,” Eduardo stated proudly.
“Did you stop to think how this would affect Ashi? How many people will be trying to get her to heal them? Or people who want to take advantage and exploit her?”
Eduardo’s voice was quiet. “No, I didn’t think.” He paused. “I just wanted everyone to see how wonderful she is.”
“Well, now everything has changed.”
Ty’s anger dissipated and he finished the phone call, resigned to the fact that Ashi’s anonymity evaporated, gone forever.
“Oh, no,” he murmured to himself.
Ashi heard him and looked over his shoulder at the computer screen. “Oh, no, what?”
Ty explained the significance of having a hit video posted on YouTube but Ashi seemed to not care very much about the excessive publicity that was about to begin.
“Well at least nobody knows who is in the video so we won’t be inundated with nosy inquiries.” He scrolled down, looking through the comments. “Oh, no, great. Someone identified me. It says they don’t know who you are but the guy in the video is Ty Scalisi, Vincent Scalisi’s son. Wonderful. They’ll be at our doorstep any time now.”
Ashi was nonplussed. “What is wrong?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to have people hounding you. I do. I witnessed it day in and day out with my dad.”
“Why would anyone hound me?”
“You don’t understand. Because of this.” Ty waved his hand in the direction of the computer screen, which was paused on her image. “Now you are famous. People will want you to help them.”
Ashi sat down and pondered the ramifications in silence. “It is okay. I can help people.”
“Let’s hope I’m wrong.”
But Ty was right. His and Ashi’s email addresses and phone numbers were not public knowledge so nobody could approach them that way, but people began to appear in front of the house. It was never a crowd, just a few people here and there, the security people keeping them away from the front door. But, the trickle of people attracted attention. One night Ashi got a phone call from Eduardo, telling her to turn on the six o’clock news. She was the subject of a news story, relating how her YouTube video had nearly a million views, and about the people flocking to her home in search of healings.
“Now more people will come,” Ty said when he saw the story.
“I am sorry, Ty. This is not what I wanted to happen when I helped the man. Now that it has happened, I don’t care. I am just sorry you are worried about the people coming to your house.”
“It’s okay, Ashi. It doesn’t matter,” Ty replied, resolving not to care either.
At school, it seemed as if every single student had seen the video. Kids were cutting class so they could be near her. They asked her for healings too, requesting cures for cramps or headaches, as if they were asking for entertainment or hoping Ashi would perform a circus trick. She only smiled at them.
Simply, when someone really needed help, she performed miracles. Ashi tried to keep it quiet but word spread quickly whenever she healed somebody. At the beginning of the school year she was everybody’s favorite little foreigner. She was cute and funny, with her mispronunciations and naiveté. Now, she was a saint to some, venerated, with a devoted following. To others, she was dismissed as a charlatan, and to the rest, she was simply an enigma.
Before and after school, there was usually a crowd of people waiting outside the school for her, either news people or afflicted people, hoping for a cure. Ty had to admit to himself that he was a little relieved that for once he was not the target of the reporters' focus.
Ty continued to take pictures and videotape her constantly, healing people and talking about her ideaology, the principles she lived by. Sometimes beautiful people did not photograph very well but she was stunning in every single shot. When he looked through his photos, every one could have been a magazine cover. He was in the odd position of worshipping her from afar even though he lived with her and spent most of his day with her.
They continued to have team meetings but there was nothing new and Ty could sense they all felt they were at a standstill.
“I think the professors are at a dead end,” Therese said one night.
“They are just teaching their classes and not really doing any investigations,” Cheryl added.
“Not that they don’t want to. Richard is talking about coming over to the dark side,” Therese said with a laugh.
“Sure, tell him to join us. We don’t have anything going on either,” Ty said. “I can’t even get the attacker to attack me,” he joked. “We haven’t seen him since the night at Newport.”
“Maybe I was too tough for him and he’s backing off,” Eduardo said, flexing his biceps.
“Hah! I doubt that,” Therese said. “More likely he’s just waiting for the most opportune moment.”
“Yeah, great,” Ty said.
He could joke about it but the night in Newport changed him. He no longer slept very well, waking up numerous times to look out the window at the security car parked outside. He had nightmares, where he woke up at the sound of somebody entering his room, coming to kill him and he’d be frozen, unable to move. He’d struggle to get a scream out and when he did, he woke up, soaked in sweat, heart pounding, only to realize it was a dream.
He developed scared little habits like sleeping with his bathroom light on and showering with the curtain mostly open. He feigned bravado but the truth was, he was nervous and jumped at any little sound. He drove everywhere, thinking it was safer than walking, but then he’d look into other cars compulsively as he drove.
Ashi noticed. After a few weeks she said, “I think you need a rest. Look at yourself in the mirror.”
“I know, Ashi, but every time I close my eyes…” Ty squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.
“You cannot sleep? Do you have nightmares?”
“My Dad dying—people chasing me. It doesn’t stop.”
“You have been through so much. Come on, Ty.” Ashi stood in front of him and pulled on his hand. “You will sleep and I will watch over you. I will let nothing happen to you.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“Come on,” she repeated.
They went up to his room and pulled the shades. Ty lay down under his covers and Ashi sat up next to him, leaning against the headboard, holding his hand.
“Now you will sleep.”
Ty slept for the next ten hours solidly, without waking up. When his eyes opened Ashi was still holding his hand.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“I will always be there for you.”