Salvation’s Curse (The Protector)
Posted By J.C. Montgomery on April 9, 2009
Filed Under Excerpts, Science Fiction | Leave a Comment
“She’s been doing well.”
“With her work and her writing, yes.”
I hate eavesdropping. But as the conversation was about me, I didn’t have the will power or the inclination to walk away and continue my chores.
“What am I missing?”
“Her smile.”
I could hear the high-pitched squeak of the chair as my father shifts position. The pause before he answers makes the already thick atmosphere hover near smothering.
“She smiles.”
“I’ve been doing this long enough to understand the difference between one that’s given because it’s expected, versus one from the heart; an honest one, warm and full.”
“I see.” More squeaking.
“Mr. Campbell, this isn’t about blame.”
“Who said anything about that?”
My empathic sense tells me he’s lying.
I felt guilty. He’s done his best to keep me from retreating into myself and getting lost there. But no matter what he does, he can’t change the fact that my world is not the same and never will be. I would love to smile the way I used to before my mom died. But I can’t. So I give what I can. Isn’t that enough?
“There is no blame here Mr. Campbell.”
“All I’ve ever wanted is to lead as normal a life as possible.”
“Perhaps that’s the problem we need to address.”
The stillness told me he’s stunned at this observation. So am I.
“I don’t understand.”
“What is normal? By which standards are you deciding what is or isn’t normal for Jane?”
Not until I nearly fainted did I realize I’d been holding my breath. There was nothing I could do to hold back the gasp that gave me away.
“Janie? Why don’t you come on in so we can talk?”
Stepping forward, I stood in the doorway looking at my father’s stricken face.
“It’s okay daddy, really.”
As I sit next to my dad, he introduces me to my new psychologist Dr. Patricia Morrisey. Her smile is warm, welcoming, and genuine. I sense in her something I haven’t with the others. No wonder Dr. Davis recommended her. He knew I would immediately sense she is someone I can trust.
“As you’ve probably heard everything, let’s just dive right in shall we? Tell me what makes you special. And as you do, try to listen to yourself, to the words you chose.”
My father and I look at each other, shrugging our shoulders in unison, unsure of what she’s asking.
“You’ve always had to listen to other people describe you. When have you ever taken the time to do that yourself?” Leaning forward in her chair, she stared at me intently, “Who are you Jane Rose Campbell? Who are you really?”
I stammered at first, not able to find any word that was my own. I kept hearing my mother’s voice, then my father’s. Doctors, friends, bullies all chimed in becoming a cacophony of sound drowning out my ability to think. My head began to pound as I struggled to clear them away, seeking to find my own voice lost among the others.
“Take a deep breath and let it out slowly as you count to ten.”
I did as she said, and by the time I got to eight, my mind began to settle. I took another breath and this time, as I counted down, all the voices had gone – all but one.
“I am my Voice – and my Voice is me.”
No, this can’t be. How could I identify myself with something I’ve hated all my life for cursing me with a power I never asked for, or ever wanted?
Slowly I realized the truth, and despised it even more.
“My Voice is a part of me that will never change. Because of it, I’m no more than a freak, an oddity of nature.”
“You’re wrong Jane. We are made up of many things. But not one of them rules us entirely. You have more control than you think, and I believe it’s about time you learned how much you actually possess, and how to use it properly.”
“No! ”
Looking over at my father I realize a lot more was going on than he’d been told.
“It’s time William. She needs to accept who she is and what she can do. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they began call ups yesterday. You no longer have a choice. Either she learns to harness her power, or others will do it for her.”
She was afraid for me. I could feel it. And there was something else.
Jane. Danger. Coming. Listen. Protector.
Protector? Of course, it makes sense.
“You’re one of…them, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
She tried to shift her gaze so I couldn’t see with my eyes what my mind had already confirmed.
“How long do we…”
“They’re on their way. You and your father must pack, quickly.”
Standing she walked over to my father and grasped each shoulder pulling him up from the chair.
“Will. Listen to me. Her training must begin if we are to have any kind of chance.”
“She’s too young. Not ready…”
Jane. Danger here. Must go.
“Not now, but I will be.” Hearing my own voice shocked me as much as them. “I’m tired of hiding, tired of hating. I want to find out who…and what I am. Please dad, please say you understand.”
I never knew if he did or not.
All I can remember of that moment was the look on his face as he crumpled to the floor. It wasn’t until I saw the trickle of blood trailing from his temple down across the bridge of his nose, did I realize he’d been shot. He fell where he stood, killed instantly by a single, silent shot.
By the time I realized what was going on, Dr. Morrisey had dragged me through the house and into the safe room. My father installed it not long after we moved here. Only he and I knew about it, or so I thought.
Watching the screens on the panel flicker to life, I saw two teams of heavily armed figures burst through both the front and back doors. Finding my father but not us, they began systematically searching the house.
As Dr. Morrisey worked the panel trying to keep up with the assault teams, all I could do was stare at the one screen focused on the room where in the space of an instant, I’d lost everything.
© J.C. Montgomery 2009. All Rights Reserved.
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