ORDER OF SEVEN (16 page)

“He won’t be able to meet us today.”

Relief loosens its death grip on my spine. “How come?”

“It’s just bad timing for him. He’s got karate tournaments all weekend.”

I nod. The waitress brings my orange juice and English muffin.

“But...”

I glance up at him. He’s had his eyes on me way too long. My whole body is mummified in dread.

“He’ll be able to make it to Odessa next week with Baron.”

I exhale. “Good. I’m glad.” I sip my orange juice. “Anything else?”

Nodin shakes his head and inspects the food the waitress just delivered. “Nope. Nothing.” He takes a bite of pancakes and stares at me with an indifference that’s unsettling as hell.

Fuck. They know.

•◊•◊•

We arrive at Baron’s for practice. My stomach is in knots, not only because it’s my last day with Baron, but because of Nodin’s behavior. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I’m pretty sure he knows I got hurt last night by doing exactly what we were told not to, or the fact that he’s not bitching me out.

We switch to the Jeep so Baron can drive. As usual, I reach from the backseat and place my hand on Baron to ease the energy, but this time there’s more to that agenda. I have to try and read Nodin. I need to see what he knows.

I arc when our skin meets. Images and feelings flood my mind, but they’re all Baron’s. I mentally reach for Nodin but all I’m sensing is an overwhelming calm and strange visuals. I glance at him; he appears asleep. “Nodin,” I say softly.

He doesn’t respond.

I give up and decide to dip back into the luxurious warmth of Baron’s thoughts. Nodin sleeps until Baron parks at the trailhead. This isn’t like Nodin. I’m unnerved.

We pass the stream and go to the tree I used the day before. I lay my hand against the bark.

I’m at the naming ceremony again, sending the scary man uneasy glances. The woman squeezes me and tousles my hair, whispers something in my ear. This time, I hear it.

“Tanda ny, mi sita, Tanda ny.”

I know this is supposed to comfort me, but I don’t relax.

The speaking man stands and silence sweeps over the group. He looks at me. The woman nudges me to stand. I don’t.

The speaking man bellows, “Manda.”

I stand.

He points his stick at me and says my name.

I look at the scary man. He’s staring at me, nodding, smiling.

Commotion. Shouting. Panic. The scary man moves toward us. I scream. I’m shoved in the dark arms of another woman.

The scary man reaches for the brown woman. She clutches him as they scramble away. I’m pulled backward toward shelter. The brown woman and I stare at each other as we get pulled further and further apart. I scream to her, “Nami!”

The woman I’m now with is screeching Nodin’s name. I look up at her. She’s just a girl, dark like the others. The paint around her eye is bright orange and yellow. She reaches her hand out to her left. I look.

It’s a little boy covered in a hooded robe, white hair peeking out. A young Nodin. The skin on his hands and face are black as night.

I blink back to awareness and Nodin’s face is above mine.

“I can’t believe it,” I say.

“What is it? What did you see?”

I lift my head to check on Baron and see him up the trail, working with my energy. Nodin helps me sit up while I tell him about the vision.

“Black skin?” he confirms.

I nod.

“What on Earth...”

“I don’t know.”

“I must have been painted. But you weren’t, right?”

“I see my own skin in the vision. There’s no paint.”

“And you saw me covered except my hands and face, just like the creepy dude, right?”

“Yes.”

“Devi.” Nodin grabs my wrists, eyes wide. “Remember your theory we could be Maz-Tabari half-breeds?”

The hair on my neck stands on end. I know what he’s about to say.

“What if the scary guy is albino and he and I were painted? They could’ve been hiding us for some reason.” He jumps up and starts pacing. “This has to be it. We were being concealed. Why? You said his eyes were scary. Be more specific.”

“They glowed. They were white, in a weird way.”

He snaps his fingers. “Of course. You were practically a baby then. Nothing looked right. You didn’t recognize him so he scared you. His eyes, they probably looked white next to the black paint.”

A wave of heat washes over us. We look over at Baron. He’s shrinking the energy. We watch him as he presses it to the size of a melon and launches it toward the sky. He leans over, hands on knees. Sweat drips off his nose and lands on pine needles.

We practice three more times. The same exact vision repeats for all three. The last time I channel, Baron takes more energy than ever before. Not just with me. More than ever in his life.

When I come back into awareness, he’s shaping it. He swings his outreached arms around a ball of energy as tall as him, wrapping his arms over it and pressing down before doing the same to the sides. Over and over, he works it until it’s the right size to hold in his hands. When it’s condensed enough to throw, he pummels it into the air with a roar. Then he collapses on his back in the dirt, chest heaving.

Nodin brings him water. I wet a towel in the stream and give it to him. He lays the wet towel over his face, sneaking sips of water underneath until he’s emptied the bottle. Only then does he sit up. His back is covered in dirt, leaves and pine needles. I use a dry towel to clean him off. His cheekbones look sunken in, tired.

“That’s it for today,” Nodin says.

I can barely keep my eyes open on the way back to Baron’s apartment. He and Nodin discuss the new details of my vision while the even drones of their conversation lull me in and out of sleep. I keep my hand on Baron, but my intermittent dreams crosshatch with their thoughts, making a stew of strange and indiscernible images. Again, I’m left unsure what Nodin knows.

In Baron’s parking lot, Nodin and I say our goodbyes. I hug Baron hard and tight, anxious to sense his thoughts as we touch...but there’s nothing. No sentiments. No warmth. He seems completely unaffected.

It dawns on me then he had been acting removed all day. A burn swells in my gut, churning like an angry sea. I worry he is deliberately detaching from me to make it easier to stay apart until this is all over. I try and get a look in his eyes, but they never meet mine.

Nodin and I depart. He squirms as my anguished emotions saturate him, but I don’t have a shred left of me to care. For two hours, I stew in anxiety, repeatedly checking my phone for a text from him.

•◊•◊•

“Are you hungry?” Nodin asks, nudging me awake.

I realize I had fallen asleep at some point. “Sort of.”

“Let’s eat.”

I close my eyes. “Mmkay.”

He nudges me again. “Baron called while you slept. He finally heard from Hahn.”

I bolt upright. “What?”

“I thought that might get your attention,” he says in the tone that often accompanies an eye roll. “Come on. I’ll tell you inside.”

We walk in the diner and get seated right away by an older lady with a high bun of dyed red hair. She smacks her gum and says, “Ya’ll have a nice lunch.”

I slide into my side of the booth. “How much farther until we’re home?”

“About two hours.”

“Jesus. This road trip never ends.”

“I can’t imagine how tough it must be for you to get so much sleep.”

This time I see the accompanying eye roll.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “I guess it was all the channeling we did earlier. Must have wiped me out.”

“Yes. All the channeling.”

We trade glares.

Nodin’s sarcasm isn’t lost on me, but I ignore it. “Are you gonna tell me what Baron said?”

“Hahn heard from the archaeologist, Jim Mealy, the one studying the Tabari. Turns out he befriended a young Tabari boy by trading trinkets and candy for tribe knowledge.”

“That’s amazing. Can we talk to him? We have to find out what he knows.”

“The only thing Hahn told Mealy is Baron had a vision in which Amair is spoken. Mealy wants to talk to Baron badly, but not over the phone. He wants to meet with him.”

“Meet with Baron?” I almost shout.

He puts his finger to his lips and shushes me. “He’ll be in Mexico for an archaeology conference in Oaxaca soon. The conference lasts three days and then he’ll be in New Mexico for two days. He wants to meet with Baron then.”

“Why does he need to meet him in person?”

“He says he has information for him.”

“Mealy knows something. This is huge. When exactly is this meeting supposed to take place?”

“In December. Saturday, the seventeenth.”

“That’s right around the corner. Baron will go, won’t he?”

“Of course.”

“Then so am I.”

He scowls. “No you’re not.”

“I have to go. There are things we need to find out for ourselves that only one of us will understand. I can’t pass up what might be our only chance to talk to this guy.”

“If you ask questions, you’ll reveal too much. Remember, Mealy only knows about Baron’s vision. We don’t know anything about this guy or his motives.”

“Okay, then I won’t say a word. Baron can say he’s bringing me because I’m his...” I hesitate.

“Girlfriend?” Nodin says coldly.

I match his tone. “Someone should be there with Baron. We don’t know what this guy wants.”

“Then I’ll go.” His face is hard with determination.

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Send the albino.”

I’ve hit below the belt. His icy glare cuts me in half, but I stare back. The waitress brings our food. Neither of us looks away. We’re at a stand-off in the middle of a burger joint in the middle of nowhere.

My internal debate reaches the conclusion I need to face him head on. I lean in, eyes squinted. “I know you know,” I say, just above a whisper.

His brows twitch. “Do you?”

“If I told you we learned our lesson and plan to obey the rules from here on out, will you drop it?”

He looks away first, brows furrowed. “I can’t believe you’d risk everything like that. Do you realize how bad you could’ve been hurt?” He leans forward, almost growling. “Do you understand the gravity of this?”

“Yes. Do you? Do you know how difficult this must be for us? If you’d ever get a girlfriend, you’d understand.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, but then I see hurt, and I feel bad for being so vicious. “Nodin, you really shouldn’t be so self-conscious. It’s not near as noticeable as you think,” I say, and I mean it.

His face hardens for a second, but long enough for me to detect sadness. “It’s more complicated than that.” He clears his throat and his eyes meet mine again, the sadness replaced with resolve. “Besides, we’re not talking about me. This is about you and your colossal screw up.”

“It won’t happen again,” I say with sincerity.

He picks up his burger and adds in a snotty tone, “You’re right. It won’t.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Did you? I think I missed that part.”

“Don’t be such a dick.”

He smirks and winks at me, and I somehow restrain myself from lunging across the table and scratching his eyeballs out. We finish our food in silence, pay the tab and leave.

The remaining two hours feel like ten. Nodin drops me off at home. We don’t speak. He’s not done punishing me.

Baron doesn’t call tonight. He
always
calls.

I’m crushed.

As the sun set one day and threw pink across the sky
I saw an old oak tree standing alone in a field.
It looked so bold and ominous as the
Sunset’s colors lit it from behind.

I couldn’t help but stare and I listened,
I felt it was trying to tell me something.
It drew me to it and I wanted to connect
Something was so familiar about my new friend.

An image suddenly struck me:
An old Blues singer in a bar.
He sings of his past, woes and lost loves
With such stories he could share.

The way he sits in the corner playing his guitar,
Eyes closed, lost in his lyrics.
He rocks to the beat of the music
Lights cast a blue veil over his weathered face.

He is a presence in this bar that is necessary,
Without him it would feel incomplete.
Yet he’s noticed only in passing...
Except for a few die-hard fans.

His old fingers bent to the shape of his guitar
Veins roping under aged skin.
Wrinkles reveal his many years
And add character to his face.

To me the old oak is like the Blues singer:
Barely noticed by anyone.
A presence both subtle and profound,
Content in its anonymity.

The tree rocks with the flow of wind
And reaches to soak up the sun
Poignant and sad at the same time
With such stories it could tell.

Just like the singer, without the tree
Things would feel incomplete,
Although it’s hardly ever given a second glance...
Except for a few die-hard fans.

— DEVI

•◊
16
ץ

TREE OF LIFE

T
uesday morning, I awake to my cell ringing. I see it’s Baron and angels sing. I haven’t spoken to him since we were in Oklahoma two days ago, and I’ve barely slept or eaten a thing since the diner on Sunday.

“Hello?”

“I had a new one.”

“A new what?”

“A new vision. Last night.”

“Oh wow, that’s right. The elephant completed the tree. What is it?” It’s so good to hear his voice I could cry.

“A jaguar. I watch it run through the forest at night. It has these yellowish, glowing eyes. It runs for a while and then just stops, panting in the moonlight.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing.”

“Weird.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Do you know anything about it yet?” I ask.

“Just off a quick Internet search, I found the Mayans regarded jaguars as sacred animals, specifically their connection to the spirit world.”

“Wow. Cool. Does Nodin know any of this yet?”

“No. I called you first. Can you call Nodin?” he asks. “I’m about to go climbing. I’ll be gone all morning.”

He’s so impersonal. So...not Baron. “Sure. I’ll call him right now.”

He thanks me and hangs up.

Why does he think it’s necessary to disconnect to this extreme? It’s not helping us.
I stand and pace, getting increasingly upset as I try to pinpoint when I first noticed it. He was fine Sunday morning when we met at his apartment, but by the time we got—