Fallen (27 page)

“I don’t,” he said
, pausing and
looking over my shoulder.
He was now facing me and I got the distinct feeling that he was
seeking out
Achan.

As expected
,
when
I
turned
just enough
,
I found
Achan
’s
spine-chilling
gaze
fixed on us
. The hair on my neck had been
antagonizing me
the entire lunch hour sitting next to Gershom
,
but
all of a sudden
,
they
went absolutely haywire.
I was really getting annoyed with this
response
.

“Listen,” Gershom went on
,
a little more urgently. “I never actually met the guy but…just humor me, alright?”

“Okay,” I shr
ugged, completely confused.
“What’s the message you’d like me to bring to someone you never met and who died around a hundred and fifty years ago?” I
teased
,
pointing out
the
absurdity of his
request.

“Tell him that he should consider coming back.”

“To earth?” Again
,
my voice raised and
I
snapped my mouth shut.

Gershom’s
shoulders
fell
in frustration
.
“Just give him the message.”

He turned
and headed
toward
the cafeteria door when I stopped him.

“Gershom? What’s the guy’s name?”

I thought it
was odd that Gershom didn’t just
shout
it out. No one would have understood what we were talking about anyway
,
but
instead, he returned to where I was sitting and crouched down. This time, I was facing Achan’s direction and noted that he was still
intently
watching us.

“His name is Eran
. E-R-A-N
…
Talor…T-A-L-O-R.
”

“
Eran
?” I
enunciated.
The sound of that name caused all the nerves in my body to
come alive
,
and
to
my embarrassment,
it
was obvious
because
Gershom’s eyebrows
immediately
creased, displaying a
puzzled
expression.

“Yes…
why?”

“Oh,” I laughed
,
embarrassingly.
It was idiotic that one name
had
such an impact on me. “I just…I met an Eran recently. So of course he’s not the same guy as yours because…well
…
he’s here on earth.”

Gershom didn’t
crack
a smile.
He just
stared at me
,
unblinking for a moment and
simply
said
, “Of course.” He
began to stand again
but
paused
. “You’ll deliver the message tonight, right?”

“Sure,” I
nibbled
a piece of my sandwich
, hiding
the fact that the mention of Eran’s name still had me tingling. “Tonight.”

Gershom then hurried across the lunch area and through the glass doors. I watched him leave, wondering what the probability was that he and I would both know an Eran. It wasn’t a very common name, despite its meaning. I remembered it from a book I had read a while ago. The name had its heritage in Hebrew and meant
watchful and
vigilant. It was definitely an appropriate expression for the Eran I knew
because
his intentions
are
to keep me alive. Gershom hadn’t given me any reason to believe the two were the same
,
but something deep inside, a feeling I couldn’t explain
,
made
me
think they were one and the same.

If they were, that would mean Eran was…I couldn’t bring myself to
even
think the word.
I looked out across the field, tossing around
the idea of it,
and
the word suddenly popped
into
my mind, as if willed there by someone else.

Supernatural
.

That would certainly explain why no one but me could see him
and why he was
immune
to injuries
. But it didn’t lend reason to why I could speak with him
…
or
touch him
…
or feel his intense heat.

When the
bell rang I stood
, headed
for my next class
, fencing
, and continued silently debating
the impossibility of Eran
being
supernatural.

I noticed that rain clouds had moved in
when
the first sprinkle landed on my nose.
Then, by
the time I was inside the gym, it
started coming
down in
sheets
.

Inside, the gym smelled even mustier
with
the drops
pounding
the thin roof overhead. The
lamps mounted to the ceiling
flickered once
,
causing
a few gasps,
but they stayed on. Ms. Valentine, a heavy set woman with a voice deeper than most men’s, didn’t seem to care. She was going to hold class with or without
light and marched to the center of the gym floor.

“Sit,” she co
mmanded
,
like a military officer, and we
obeyed,
moving
like cattle to
position ourselves around her in a circle.

Ms.
Valentine’s
class is relatively liberal
,
allowing us to
choose any
place on the mat
we wanted
in the absence of chairs
. Of course, I
decided earlier I wanted to arrive late, so I would have to sit in the back. So much for that idea.

Lying at Ms. Valentine’s feet were three sword-like weapons which she reviewed in great detail
with
us,
pointing out that
the
foil
was
the one we would use for this class.
She was
naming
each part of the foil
when the
hair on the back of my neck stood up again.
I almost uttered a curse word
under my breath
when
the
gym
door opened and
The Warden
walked in.

“Ms.
Valentine
…
,
” he interrupted
without waiting for her to end her sentence
. “I’d like to introduce your newest student.”

He
snapped
shut
his umbrella and
ushered in
a girl so stunning that a few of the guys audibly drew in their breath
.
She was Indian
and had
dark brown hair that hung
straight down
,
nearly
the ent
ire length of her petite frame. She
was wearing
a
white tank top and
a
red pagmina wrapped around her shoulders
which made
her dark skin that much more striking.
I would guess that every other girl in the room felt they paled in comparison.
This was probably because e
ver
y
guy in
the class instantly sat up. Their undivided attention settled on the new student, waiting for
her
introduction.

“Sarai Patel…this will be your
fencing
class,”
The Warden
said
, his fingertips
lingering
on her shoulder
as he guided
her through the door
. “Ms.
Valentine
will ensure you are treated exceptionally well
.
Won’t you
,
Ms.
Valentine
?” He turned to our teacher
,
purs
ing
his lips
and
flashing a
fierce expression.

She must have been just as
stunned
as I was by his sudden change in behavior because she stuttered over her words. “Of-
of
course. She’ll-
she’ll
be well taken care of.”

“Sarai is from
Hawaii
. She’ll be staying in
New Orleans
for the remainder of the year
,
while her parents are taking an extended vacation in
Bombay
.”