Unity and Destiny Pt. 02

* * *

Javier observed while Esther parallel parked. As always, in comparison to the camp, San Jose felt like a zoo. They were only here for the day, but soon enough they'd be back for school. He didn't know how he felt about that. Things were slowly improving between him and Esther, and he knew when school started they'd face some of the same issues they had last year. Esther couldn't do her studies halfway.

Grace was waiting for them in the coffee house.

"Hey," she said, stretching her back and standing to shake hands. "It's good to see you."

Javier didn't stare. She wasn't Kat, and she hadn't meant to show off her figure, particularly not to him. "Thanks for meeting us," he said. "I know it must seem weird."

Grace sighed. "Kat insisted this was important. I owe her that much. And of course I'm a little curious. So, you back up for the rest of the summer?"

"No, just here for the day," said Javier. "And we haven't been down with my mother all this time. That's one of the secrets Kat was keeping for us."

"She's kept a lot of secrets for us," said Esther, "and it's not fair. And honestly, we think she was trying in her own way to keep you safe. The thing is, they're such big secrets that it's going to be difficult to explain."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "What exactly are we talking about here? Are you secretly hackers like her? In some kind of criminal danger?"

"No," said Esther. "It's best if I show you. Do you have some paper? Good. Now, write something down so that I can't see it."

Grace gave her a funny look, then scribbled something behind her hand.

"Chocolate," said Esther. "Again."

Grace's mouth fell open, but she wrote something longer.

"Bartleby the Scrivener."

"How the hell are you doing that?" Grace whispered.

"I have unusual abilities," said Esther softly. "I can see and hear things in different ways from most people."

"No," Grace said. "This is some kind of trick, isn't it? How about, uh, tell me how much money I have in my wallet."

"Eleven dollars and seventeen cents," said Esther.

Grace stared at her and pulled out the wallet to count.

"You also have a receipt from a drug store in your back pocket. There's an employee in the back about to come out with a platter of pastries. Before we came in, you were reading an anthology of English poetry, but you put it in your bag while I was parking the car. John Donne."

"Okay," Grace said, her hands frozen. "Okay. That's impossible. But you just did it. Right in front of me. Who the hell are you, Esther?"

"The same Esther you know," said Javier. "But do you see why there might be a complicated, hidden part of her life? And mine too, and Kat's. She's willing to tell you, if you'll listen. It is a crazy story, and it's all true. And she feels terrible for not trusting you with it, but the truth was it was also our secrets she was holding so tightly. And if you're willing, your secrets as well. But Kat was worried about telling you for good reason. They're very dangerous secrets."

Grace nodded slowly, and to their surprise she started to smile. "Oh, that is so unfair of Kat. She knows me far too well. I'll have to hear the whole story now, and then she'll give me that pout, you know the one, and it'll all be over. Damn, what a frustrating woman she is. I still have no idea what to think about what you just did, Esther. But thanks for giving me the best possible excuse to justify seeing Kat again."

* * *

"Do you think that went well?" Esther asked Javier during the drive to Raj's house.

"I think it went perfectly," he said. "Now it's up to the two of them."

Delicious smells greeted them at Raj's door. Kat was already there, licking samosa crumbs off her fingers.

"She's going to get in touch," said Javier before Kat could ask.

"You are the most amazing friends," said Kat. "I can't possibly thank you enough. Now have some of these snacks before I eat all of them."

"You didn't have to cook, Raj," Esther said. "We weren't planning to stay for dinner—"

"Exactly why I needed to cook," Raj said, patting her on the shoulder. "Otherwise you wouldn't get any samosas, would you? Anyway, I don't do it enough. It's nice to have a reason."

Raj wanted to know more about the events that summer, and in particular everything having to do with Lukas. Eventually he and Esther started talking mathematics, so Kat and Javier fell to discussing the upcoming semester. But then something Raj said caught his attention.

"I lived there for ten years," said Raj. "I would never have expected this. Anti-immigrant measures, crackdowns on protests, rumors of disappearances. Even the Northern Ireland situation has blown up again. I don't know what's happening. I called my sister and she sounded scared, and Preeti's never scared. I even called my parents for the first time in months. It turns out they're thinking of leaving Britain, after all these years."

"Disappearances," said Javier. "Could they be collecting people with Changes? Is that related to the paranoia, all that Britain First stuff?"

"Who knows," said Raj. "It could well be part of it, at the highest levels. Perhaps they learned something about the Unit. This country shares intelligence more with the UK than anyone else, or at least they used to. The new British government certainly doesn't seem very friendly to the US."

He sighed. "And if that weren't enough, Pakistan and India are in another round of their escalations. I know terrible things are happening all over the world, but it's hard not to be frightened by that. People in this country don't seem to realize how dangerous the situation is, especially now that China's reaffirming its alliance with Pakistan."

The conversation moved away from politics, but as they began the drive home, Esther returned to it.

"I don't know enough, Javier," she said. "I realize we can't fix all the problems in the world, but surely we need to be worrying about the ones that involve Changed people. And I can't even begin to untangle it all."

"I know," said Javier. "I feel totally lost. At least Raj understands more of it. Lukas would know the most, of course. But he's not sharing."

"Javier, turn around," Esther suddenly said.

Confused, Javier pulled off at the next exit.

Esther had her eyes closed.

"The city," she said. "San Francisco, I mean. There's someone there from my dreams."

Javier pulled over and stopped the car.

"Esther," he said. "Think about this. Do you need to see them right away? Can you wait a while and decide how to handle this?"

She opened her eyes and nodded slowly. "You're right," she said. "Let's talk about it. I need to be cautious. But I don't feel any of the pull directly from her, not like the canyon, or even the dreams. I don't think most of the dreamers are dangerous, not in person. There is one older man I've nervous about, whom I suspected might have sensed me. But this woman has very little sensitivity. She may not even know there's anything unusual about herself, aside from her dreams."

"And aside from the rituals in the middle of nowhere in Utah," said Javier, "whenever the last time was that it happened. I doubt she just forgot something like that."

"It was many years ago," said Esther. "And the dreams are far less potent than the ritual in the canyon. If they were trying to accomplish some feat of vision in the canyon, I don't think much is happening anymore."

"Okay," said Javier. "If you're sure you're going to do this, let's figure out what you should say. Work through a few scenarios."

* * *

It turned out Javier had more than a few scenarios in mind. Esther rehearsed her lines as she walked down the block to the woman's house.

She'd insisted on coming alone. Something told her it was the right way to handle this particular woman. The house she approached was a cramped cottage on a dense residential side street. In addition to the woman from her dreams, there was a man inside, and a young boy. That could complicate things.

Esther waited until the woman was nearest the door, then walked up and rang the bell. The woman she expected answered the door. But she looked very tired, and older than in the visions.

Heavy Breasts. Javier would have had trouble not staring, and Esther found it hard herself. She remembered everything about this woman's body. The way her nipples pointed outwards. The feel of her buttocks. The hollow at the base of her neck. Her taste.

"Hi," said Esther quickly. "I'm here about the dreams, in the canyon. Do you get them too?"

The woman opened her mouth in shock, shaking her head.

"You're too young," she hissed. "No, it can't be."

"I remember you," said Esther. "But it's as though I'm seeing someone else's memories."

The other woman looked back quickly, then seemed to come to a decision.

"Meet me on the main street, at the bench near the intersection. Don't bring anyone with you, hear me? I won't come otherwise. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Esther gave the slightest push on Javier when she walked past the car. They'd agreed on that signal: more time, don't worry. She smiled when she felt Javier crouch down, understanding that he should stay out of sight.

A few minutes later, the woman joined her at the bench. She immediately pulled out a cigarette and lit it, hands shaking.

"How old are you, anyway?" the woman asked.

"Nineteen. Nearly twenty."

The woman smiled slightly.

"So young. But I suppose I was barely any older back then. Now, this is very important. How did you find me?"

Esther had agreed on this. She was terrible at lying. But she could be selective.

"I have friends in the area," she said. "I felt drawn this direction, and the closer I got the more I recognized why. What does it mean? How could we share a dream?"

The woman sighed heavily. "Then you don't know anything about the others? Or where the canyon is?"

Esther shook her head, ears burning. But the woman didn't seem to notice the lie. She was fine.

"How much exactly do you remember of the dreams?"

"I remember other people," said Esther. "Everyone naked. And some kind of images, but they were unclear."

The woman nodded. "I barely remember the images myself. And the sex?"

Esther blushed. "Yes."

The woman sighed again, blowing out smoke. "Of course you remember the sex. You see this cigarette? I doubt I could kick the habit if I tried, and it's nothing compared to those memories. For years I tried to bury them, but I think they still might be what ruined my fucking marriage. I don't feel it yet with you. That must be a good sign."

"What do you mean?"

"This is how it always started," said the woman. "One of us finds another, and then another finds us, and pretty soon we start fucking, and then at some point we're in that damned canyon, and I'm riding a man for hours and hours or there's some woman between my legs and a cock in my mouth and entire days disappear. Then I'm back where I started, exhausted and starved, and I can't remember how it happened. Oh, you probably think it sounds delightful and wicked. Trust me, girl, it's terrifying. You truly don't know anything about this?"

Esther shook her head.

"Then for God's sake, take my advice. Ignore the pull. Don't ever visit another one of us, if you feel the urge. And if someone you recognize from the dream appears unexpectedly, shut the fucking door in their face and consider moving somewhere far away."

"I believe you," said Esther, nodding seriously. "What is it, though? I don't understand. You just disappeared? How did you explain that to other people?"

"I didn't," the woman said. "It was all let's see, twelve, thirteen years ago? I was in a different life then, and I thought it was all over, or maybe I'd somehow invented the memories. But then the dreams started again last fall. This is so bad."

Esther's heart thudded. "When exactly was the last time? I, uh, remember something strange back then. Nightmares. I was just a kid."

The woman stared in horror. "No, he wouldn't have. We wouldn't have. Never a child. But no, you weren't there. There were never any children, I'm positive, not even in the dreams. Maybe it's a coincidence. Let's see. Yes, I'm sure of it. Twelve years ago, as of this month. That was the last time."

Esther made a show of thinking. Surely the woman could see how nervous she was. But of course, she'd expect that.

"Oh," said Esther. "A coincidence, then. I was younger than that when those nightmares stopped. I barely remember them anyway. What did you mean, he wouldn't have done that? Do you mean the old man in my dreams?"

The woman tapped her cigarette nervously and looked down the street.

"Yes," she said. "I think he's the organizer. He always seemed to know more, and he didn't seem as absorbed by the sex. Mostly stared at the images. At the time I thought, oh, he's just old, but that's because I was a stupid kid. I can't explain, but he's the most dangerous part of it all. Stay away from him, whatever you do."

She stood up and pulled a notepad from her purse.

"Here's my phone number. If you find out it's happening again, give me a call. Leave a message for Marianne, and say 'the next yoga class is canceled.' And then I will walk right out of my marriage and leave the country. That's how fucking serious this is. Now get away, and if you know what's best you'll avoid this city."

* * *

Javier listened while Esther related the entire conversation, word for word. Even her inflection changed when she recited Marianne's lines.

"I feel terrible the way I left her," said Esther. "She must be much more worried than she was, and I don't know if she has reason to be."

"It can't be helped," said Javier. "And you learned a lot that might make both of you safer. For example, that you likely weren't the child of someone in this group," said Javier. "That was clever the way you got her to talk about children."

"You realize what the time means," said Esther.

Javier thought, and then nodded slowly. "Twelve years. But you were eight when you appeared. When, exactly?"

"September twentieth or twenty-first," said Esther. "The month after this group's last trip to the canyon. And yet I'm sure the image of my parents' backyard came from the canyon, not from their dreams later on. It's impossible, Javier. It means they predicted what would happen, weeks in advance. Even Abuela couldn't have done that. Not for something as random as a drowning."

"There are other possibilities," said Javier. "Maybe Marianne slightly misremembered the date. Or, I hate to say this, but maybe they picked your parents first, and then made an opportunity."

Esther took a deep breath. "You mean, maybe they arranged for the first Esther's drowning. Oh, what a terrible thought. I'd much rather believe they could project possibilities well into the future. The old man must know."

"I think you'd better stay away from him," said Javier.

Esther sighed. "You're right. Not until I know more. You know, there was another coincidence. The dreams started again last fall."

"After Franklin died," said Javier.

"Yes, but also after Abuela died. It seems Abuela understood a good bit about whatever that old man was organizing, and given Marianne's experience, Abuela wouldn't have liked it at all. I'm guessing she found a way to disrupt it, and that was why it all stopped years ago. But now the old man has figured out that she's not around anymore."

Javier shook his head. It was all too speculative, but Esther had her mind fixed on it, and he couldn't really blame her. She deserved to know where she came from. But he was starting to worry about what she'd find.

* * *

Esther closed her eyes, and she Looked.

Javier, Kat, Raj, Mark, Nicola, Jacob, Mrs. Sanchez. All safe. She couldn't quite maintain a Watch the way she used to, but she was close. It took nearly no effort to find these familiar representations in otherspace, as though her subconscious were on the verge of tracking them already.

And now she Looked farther, sweeping past glowing lines and shapes and spaces she still couldn't comprehend. The sense of a person was more familiar, and easier still if they had Changes.

There were more Changed people than she expected, and she had no idea how far away most of them were. But she was here to practice.

With a subtle shift, a distant glowing jewel resolved into the familiar strands of a person. Esther reassured herself that she was well-hidden, and she brought her attention close to the distant figure.

A man, sitting at a desk in his office. An ordinary day. Perhaps he didn't know there was anything unusual about himself. But he did have light spots on the inside of his thigh—

Esther carefully distanced herself and looked at the building, the larger sense of place.

He was in Portland, much farther than she'd realized. She lost her concentration briefly, but then she moved on.

By the time she opened her eyes she was grinning widely.

"I reached into Mexico!" she said. "It wasn't so difficult. Javier, there are so many with the Changes, so many ordinary lives. I don't know how I'm going to keep track of them all."

"You won't," said Javier. "Not yet, right? Maybe not for a long time. But I'm proud of you all the same."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Selena," she said. As a courtesy, she strengthened the blanket of privacy around them, and Selena visibly relaxed as she always did. The older woman took the chair across from her.

"I'd like to talk," Selena said.

"Okay," said Esther.

Javier got up and left. He probably had guessed Selena just wanted to talk to Esther. He was so considerate that way. But Selena didn't start talking, even after Javier was gone. Esther sat quietly, letting her brain explore a little geometric space she'd envisioned. A new kind of meditation.

"I'm older than I look," Selena finally said. "Fifty-two."

"Oh," Esther said. "I should have guessed."

"Women always lie about their age, I suppose. But it's not particularly funny anymore. People who've known me long enough just assume I keep in amazing shape. Others misjudge me, and it's convenient to let people think I'm younger. I've even been doing it with you lot, because it's already strange to be the odd one out."

Esther nodded. "And now that you know about Abuela—"

"Exactly," said Selena. "You said we could live a very long time. What determines that, do you know? Is it related to how many Changes we have? A genetic kind of thing?"

"Abuela didn't say," Esther said. "I assume there's some correlation, but I don't think she knew either."

"I have a lot of Changes," Selena said. "More than Mark or Nicola, even when I was their age. And now—Esther, I didn't mean to, but I saw your body, after we brought you in the motel room. Mark wasn't thinking about your modesty."

Selena stopped again, and Esther didn't press her. Finally the other woman looked at her.

"You're young, but you're surprisingly wise in some ways. Maybe you can understand this. I had reached a place where I thought I knew who I was. I was successful, and I was completely self-sufficient. I'm long past the self-pity from when I was younger. If not for the noise becoming intolerable, I think I could have lived out my life this way. Except now I'm realizing that wasn't realistic."

"You worry you'll become more noticeable, as you age slowly," said Esther.

"Exactly. I've gotten used to covering up my strangeness. And now I'd have to learn to make myself look older as well. And eventually I'd have to isolate myself even further, until no one was left to remember the weird youthful-looking business executive. It's actually a rather horrible thought."

"There's an alternative," said Esther. "Re-invent yourself. That's what I assume Abuela did, before she finally settled into this place for good."