Among the Shrouded (3 page)

“You didn’t say anything about that yesterday.  W
hy couldn’t you see it?”

“I don’t know.  I think maybe I’m starting to come unhinged a little bit.  Like maybe being around all the darkness is starting to change me.  I feel like this could be just the beginning.  Maybe I’m starting to lose my sight,”
she said, unable to keep her voice from wavering.

“No, H
on, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Chelsea consoled her, crossing the kitchen to give her a hug.  “I’m sure it’s him.  There has to be something wrong with him that his aura doesn’t show.  You are so strong and so courageous.  This can’t have anything to do with you.”

“I looked him up today,”
she said, pulling away from Chelsea and wiping a tear from her cheek.  “I didn’t see anything unusual.”

“Don’t buy trouble,” Chelsea said wisely.  “Just wait and see.  I bet that will be the end of it.  And if it isn’t and som
ething else is strange… well, you’ll deal with it then.”

“You’re a good friend
, Chels,” she said.

“Learned from the best,” Chelsea replied.

CHAPTER

4

T
HOMAS

His mother was already finishing her English muffin when Thomas arrived at the kitchen table on Sunday morning.

“Good morning, Tommy,” said Mildred as
he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that was already brewed on the stove.

“Hi
, Ma,” he replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“What time do you have to be in
to work this morning?” she asked.

“Nine
thirty.”  He sat beside her at the table and watched as she finished her breakfast.

“I miss sitting in church with you,” she commented.

“Me too, but we need the money and the tips are good at Belinda’s.  Especially from the Sunday brunch crowd.”

“I know
you’re right, but I hate seeing you having to work so much.  You work all the time.  How are you ever going to find a nice girl to settle down with if you are always worried about making money to look after me?”

“I already have a nice girl, Ma,”
he laughed.

“I’m way too old for you!  And I’m serious Tommy.  You are young.  You should be out having a good time. 
Going to school.  Sowing your oats.  I’m a huge burden on you.”

“You’re no burden
.  You saved my life, remember.  It’s an honor to be able to help you.”  He paused, smiling at her.  “But enough of that.  You have to get to church and I have to get to work, so no more dawdling.”

Mildred gave
his arm a squeeze and stood up to wrap her scarf over her head and around her shoulders.  “I’m making spaghetti tonight,” she called as she headed through the back door, “maybe someday you’ll invite a girl home for Sunday dinner.”

He
shook his head at his mother.  She genuinely wanted the best for him and to her that meant being young and in love.  Sadly, he didn’t recall a time in his life when he had ever felt young.  Or in love for that matter.  Staying alive had always been his biggest concern.  Finding happiness was never really part of the equation.

After breakfast and
a quick shower, he got dressed in his uniform and took the bus into Towson where he worked as a busboy at one of the local restaurants.  There was no money for car payments or car insurance, so public transportation was his only means of getting from place to place.  However, having to ride the bus didn’t upset him.  In fact, he quite enjoyed it.  Sometimes he would bring a book to read or he would listen to music, but mostly he just watched the other people around him, going about their day.  He tried to imagine what their lives were like, where they were going, and what they were doing. 

On Sunday mornings the bus was usually empty, but on this particular morning, there was a haggard looking man
slouched low in a seat as he made his way down the center aisle.  The man appeared to be intoxicated and was talking jibberish to himself.  The muscles in Thomas’ jaw tightened involuntarily and he was suddenly filled with anxiety.  He chose a seat toward the back of the bus, far from the man, and yet he found the tension that pulled at his stomach would not release.  He knew not to ignore what he was feeling.  His apprehension had saved him from significant pain and grief throughout this life.  He gave a sideways glance at the man.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” the man slurred
, turning around in his seat to face him.

He
did not respond and kept his eyes down, pretending to pick at a bit of dirt on his pants leg.

“I said, ‘What are ya lookin’ at?’” the man yelled a second time.

He was suddenly aware of the knife in the man’s left boot.  He knew the man was angry.  Not necessarily angry at him, but angry in general.  He also knew he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and needed to get away immediately to avoid getting hurt.  He stood up and moved quickly to the front of the bus.

“
Can you let me off here, please,” he asked the driver, his voice full of urgency.

“This isn’t a stop, Son,” the elderly driver replied.

“I know.  I don’t feel well.  I’d really like to get off.”

The bus pulled off to the side of the road at the next intersection and
he stepped off.  As he watched the plume of exhaust dissipate as the bus drove away, he felt the tension in his muscles release.  It was a six block walk to the next stop, but he knew he had made the right decision.

By the time he
punched in, he was thankful to be only eight minutes late for his shift.  The restaurant, however, was already full of patrons enjoying Sunday brunch.  Hash browns, omelets, quiche, and bacon rolled out of the kitchen.  He quickly tied on his apron and grabbed his sanitizing spray and rag. 

As
he was making his way out of the kitchen, a news story on the radio caught his attention.  Accounts of a stabbing on an MTA bus were being reported.  He stopped mid stride to listen to the details, certain the incident could have only taken place on the number 55 bus into Towson.  The announcer confirmed police were just arriving on the scene where a middle aged man had been stabbed repeatedly by an unknown assailant witnesses described as ‘drunk and homeless.’ 

He
held his breath as the broadcast ended with confirmation that the stabbing had indeed occurred on the same bus he opted to get off.  He leaned against the wall for stability as the reality of the fate he had avoided set in.  Although he felt awful for the stabbing victim, he was thankful his instinctive anxiety had saved him once again.

After several minutes
of deep breathing, he composed himself and finally made his way into the dining room to begin his rounds.  He was careful not to interrupt those who were eating but aware of those who needed glasses and plates removed from their tables.  He had learned to be invisible, observing empty glasses, table trash, and patrons who were paying the tab and getting ready to leave.  He moved stealthily, quickly turning over tables so new customers could be seated.  The familiar repetition of his work took his mind off the morning’s bus ride and after several hours, he was feeling considerably better.

Just before noon,
he was placing linen napkins and bread plates on a table that had just been cleared.  Out of nowhere, the hair on the back of his neck bristled and he felt as though someone was watching him.  He continued to set the table but attempted to glance around the room inconspicuously.  There were several older couples seated beside the windows.  A family with four well behaved children was at a booth by the kitchen.  There was a group of boisterous women at the large circular table in the center of the room, and to the far left, by the entrance at a four top, was a party of three, two young women and a man.  One of the women was looking directly at him.

He
quickly finished his task and carried his bin of dirty dishes into the kitchen.  He sensed the woman was interested in him for some reason, but he could not imagine her intent.  It didn’t occur to him that perhaps he should be flattered because she found him attractive or desirable in some way.  Instead, he looked himself over for flaws and tried to remember if he had met her someplace before.  He peered through the kitchen door to get a better look at the woman who was now consuming all of his attention. 

She was attractive, her long dark hair lying in gentle waves across her shoulders.  Her skin was warm and bronze and he surmised she was
probably of Italian descent.  She was laughing with the couple sitting across from her at the table.  While he watched, the second woman handed her a small sheet of paper.  They stood to hug one another, reaching above the plates and glasses on the table below.  The man, beaming with pride, placed his hand against the abdomen of the woman beside him.  He realized at once what had transpired.  The couple had announced they were having a baby.

“
Quit daydreaming, Tom. Table nine needs to be cleaned and the family at eleven are overflowing with dishes,” said one of the servers impatiently.

“I’m sorry.  I’m on it,” he responded.

Back in the dining room, he tried to avoid the woman and her companions, but as he cleared the table beside them, he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.  He stole a glance over his shoulder as he wiped the table top and was surprised to see the woman staring at him once again.  He gave her a sideways smile.  She seemed to hesitate for a moment.  His heart stopped as he waited for a response.

Finally, mercifully, she returned his smile.  He finished the place settings and returned to the kitchen with the
bin of dirty dishes he had cleared.  By the time he returned to the dining room, the woman and the couple were gone.

CHAPTER

5

KATE

Yekaterina Malinov trudged through the snow in her well-worn boots and ill-fitting coat.  The frigid air blew beneath her collar and seemed to invade every cell of her body as she crossed Kiev Polytechnic Institute campus. 

Yekaterina,
known to friends and family as Kate, enjoyed learning.  Her dream was to become a physician, like her father, but with the recent economic downturn throughout the Ukraine, there was little money for higher education.  During the six years since graduating from secondary school, she had completed just over half of her university requirements.  The subsidies from the government did little to ease the financial burden, so she took classes as her family could afford them, usually one at a time. 

As she walked the half mile from the university to the small downtown apartment she shared with the rest of her family, she contemplated the reality of her latest struggle.  In less than two months,
her younger sisters, twins, would be graduating from secondary school.  She knew they were both far more intelligent than she was and they deserved an opportunity to attend university as well.  The unfortunate truth was that even with the government stipend her sisters would receive, her family could not afford to send all three girls to college at the same time.  She knew it was time to leave school and pick up a second job to help put her sisters through college.

Along the walk,
she stopped in a handful of retail stores to inquire about job openings.  As was always the case, none were hiring.  She was frustrated with the lack of opportunities for her generation.  After the country gained its independence from the Soviet Union, times had been tough.  Eventually, the Ukraine had found its place in the world and experienced economic success at the turn of the century.  In those years, she had convinced her mother to open a bakery and her father had developed a thriving medical practice.  However, since the global economy had recently declined, life had taken a turn for the worse in the country as a whole and in her family as well.  Her mother had scaled back the bakery workers to a skeleton crew, and although her father still saw patients, many of them could no longer afford to pay him for his care.

Since times had gotten tough,
she had begun to rely more and more on her gift to help her family get by.  As a child, she had learned early on she could manipulate the people in her life into doing the things she wanted them to do.  And although she could have spent her childhood persuading her friends and family into giving her toys and candy, she found she was happiest when she was using her ability in the service of others.

During the summer when she
was seven, her family had taken a much anticipated trip to the countryside for a three day vacation.  During their travels, they happened upon a small town with a gelato shop.  Her father had treated her and her sisters each to a delicious cup of icy goodness which they enjoyed while sitting on the front stoop of the shop.  While they ate, a large group of farm children passed by, hot and tired from a day spent working in the fields.  Watching them trudge down the street, she remarked to her sisters that she thought the farm children looked as though they would like some gelato too, if only she could buy some for them.

At that moment, the shopkeeper emerged from the store and announced the cooling unit of the main freezer had
suddenly shorted out and the gelato would need to be eaten immediately before it melted and caused a mess.  He began passing out bowls of gelato to everyone on the street, including all of the farm children.  It was at that moment she began to fully understand the power of her gift.  She realized she only needed to acknowledge her own conscious desires, and somehow, her abilities would help to take care of the rest.

She
thought of this day and how to use her gift now to help pay for her sisters’ college tuition as she climbed the four flights of stairs to her family’s apartment. After weeks of brainstorming, she still didn’t have a feasible idea and as she opened the front door, her mood, which was as grey as the snow laden sky, did not improve.

Her mother was already home from the bakery, a sure sign it had been a slow day for sales.  Both of her sisters, Natalya and
Tetyana, were seated at the small kitchen table engrossed in their studies.  The only positive sign was that her father wasn’t there.  She hoped he was seeing patients at the clinic.  Patients who could pay him in hryvnia instead of bartered goods.

“Hello
, Katerina,” said her mother who was sitting in the living room folding laundry as she walked through the door.  “How was your class?”

“It was good. 
We began studying embryonic development.  It was fascinating.  Cell division is a magical thing,” she said.  “And what about you, Mama?  Why are you home so early?”

“Ah, we sold out
of the few pastries we had early this morning, but there were no supplies to bake more.  I sent Yuri to purchase flour and sugar from the wholesale market, but I don’t know how much he will be able to buy.  We will just do the best we can tomorrow.”

“M
ama,” she began, sitting beside her mother on the threadbare cushion of the sofa, “I don’t know if doing the best we can is going to cut it anymore.”

“What are you talking about, child?” her mother responded.

She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’m talking about my sisters.  I know their stipend was awarded.  And I know it won’t be enough.”

“
We will manage.  We always have,” her mother said stoically as she smoothed the collar of the shirt she was folding.

“No, Mama, we won’t.  We’ve always managed to have food on the table and clothes on our backs
, which is a lot more than some.  But now, three schoolings to pay for?  No.  It’s impossible.  We will starve.”

“Yekaterina!  You disrespect your father and you disrespect me.  Who is putting these thoughts in your head?”

“No one, Mama.  But I’m not a child anymore.  I see what is happening.  And I am old enough to help.”

“You have a job.”

“I do, but I can get another.”

“You will not have time for your studies if you get another job.”

“Then I will give up my studies.”

“No,” her mother said flatly.

“Just for a while,” she explained.  “Just until the girls are done.  Then I will go back.”

“No.  It will be too late for you then.  Just like it was too late for me.  You will never go back.”

“Then I will become a baker like you.”

“You are not a baker!”
her mother said, raising her voice.  “You are a doctor, like Papa.”

“I’m not a doctor yet and maybe I never will be.  But that’s okay.  I want the girls to have a chance.”

“We will find a way.  No more talk of second jobs.  Go sit with your sisters and do your work so when your father arrives he will see you are grateful.  We will not speak a word of this to him, do you understand?”

“Yes
, Mama,” she replied.

She
kept her word and remained silent about her intentions at dinner.  And when her father reported to the family that he had been approached by the chief of staff at the Isida Hospital about a position – a position that would be salaried, she knew her gift was working once again to provide for her family.

“What did you tell them?” Natalya asked as she dipped her bread crust into her stew.

“I told them I would have to think about it.”

“What!”
she exclaimed.  “What is there to think about?  With a guaranteed salary, there might be a way!”

“A way for what?” her father replied. 
Her mother gave her an angry stare across the table which caused her to hesitate.

“Nothing.  Nevermind.  That’s great
, Papa.  I just think, for my opinion, that you should take the job.”

“It would mean closing the
clinic.  The clinic I worked so hard to establish.  And what of the people I serve?  What happens if I am no longer there to care for them?”

“Papa, they never pay!  You take care of them for what?  For the eggs they give you?  The two day old fish?”

“Yekaterina, I take care of them because I can.  Because I took an oath.”

“But what about us?  What about Nat
alya and Tetyana?  University will not accept fish as payment for their education!”

No one spoke. 
Her mother held her spoon in midair and the twins held their breath.  She stared at her father who held her gaze with a look of disbelief and shame.

“Go,” he said finally.

He said nothing more.  Just go.

She
rose from the table and took her coat from the back of her chair where she had placed it earlier in the evening.  She quickly wrapped her shawl around her head and neck and left the little apartment, out into the cold and quiet of the night with nowhere to go and no one to help her.  Her gift could only present her family with opportunity.  It could not make them take it.