Orson: A Paragon Society Novel Page 8

  I glanced at her. She was biting her lip. It was her tell. If Elyse was nervous or anxious, she nibbled that bottom lip. I've always thought it was cute, but in the current circumstances, I didn't think it was a good thing.

  "You can't tell me?"

  "I'm not supposed to."

  "Well, I―"

  "A wolf," she blurted out. "You can't tell anyone I told you?" She couldn't keep the pleading out of her voice.

  "Of course not." A wolf. How original. "Not a peep. Ever."

  Elyse took a deep breath. "There may be a more personal reason Uncle Tommy was upset." She was looking straight ahead.

  Uh oh.

  "And that would be?"

  "As you can imagine, it's hard, if not impossible, for a shape-shifter to be in a . . . um . . . a romantic relationship with a regular person."

  Oh no, this wasn't happening. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

  "Kyle," Elyse continued explaining, not looking at me.

  I couldn't believe it. It was something so ridiculously cliché.

  "Kyle and I grew up together. Went to the same school, when we were younger. We've known each other our whole lives." She was trying to explain before she even said the words.

  I couldn't let her dangle and sputter. I loved her. "He was your boyfriend."

  "Kind of."

  "How is someone 'kind of' your boyfriend?" I asked.

  "You took Brooke Little to every dance junior year. Was she your girlfriend?" she asked, crossing her arms.

  "Uh."

  "Exactly."

  "So, does Kyle still think you're dating?"

  "He shouldn't. Not after prom."

  Elyse and I had gone to prom together. Neither one of us had been dating anyone seriously. At least, I hadn't been. So we decided to go together. We we're best friends, and we had a blast.

  Like the idiot man I freely admit to sometimes being, I asked, "Why? What changed after prom?" I was there, and I knew exactly what had happened at prom. There had been lots of dancing and laughing and in the middle of a slow dance, toward the end of the night, we had a moment.

  I had tossed my tux jacket, my tie and collar loosened. Elyse had ditched her heels. We swayed around the dance floor to a slow song, Elyse resting her head on my shoulder. It was the oddest thing I started feeling little jolts, not exactly shocks, just a kind of zing in all the points our bodies touched. The zings grew in intensity and had the effect of me wanting to draw her closer. Who wouldn't? The feeling was amazing. She tilted her head back to look at me, and I could see it in her face she was feeling the same thing. We stared at each other, our breathing getting heavier, and then I pulled her close. Our arms wrapped around each other, our cheeks touching, and the world melted away. We clung to one another, the exchange of energy between us escalating. At one point, I had to open my eyes to make sure, and I know this sounds crazy, that we weren't glowing.

  The song ended. We stood motionless for a second. Elyse then excused herself to freshen up. I agreed that was an awesome idea and I spent a few minutes splashing cold water on my face, staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what the heck had just happened. We didn't talk about it. We just spent an awkward few weeks ignoring it, until the party last Saturday.

  Elyse pulled me out of my memory. "What. Happened. At. Prom." I'd like to say she sounded more hurt than angry, but I'd be lying.

  Idiot.

  I pointed to myself. "Post-traumatic stress. It causes unpredictable behavior. That's science. I'm just saying." I smiled, pleading.

  Her eyes narrowed. She reached over and flicked my earlobe, held up a finger, and said, "That's one." She tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a grin. "As I was saying, after prom, I told Kyle that things had changed. He wasn't happy."

  "And I'm assuming his dad wasn't thrilled either," I said.

  "No. Even my parents were — I don't know — surprised, I guess. It's not something that's supposed to happen. One of us falling for one of you."

  "One of you? Don't you guys have a term like Muggle or something? You know, to describe the rest of society?"

  "We use the word mundane sometimes, but it sounds kind of rude, don't you think?

  "So you broke little Kyle's heart, and now his dad is out to get me?

  "That's probably a part of it, yes, and unfortunately, he has Society law on his side because of the whole forklift thing."

  I pulled into the Costco parking lot. "Well, we're about to start damage control on the 'whole forklift thing,' so hopefully Uncle Tommy and his mini-me can get their little girl feelings under control."

  "Be nice. Kyle is a good guy."

  I thought about the way Kyle had stood motionless at the Kellys. He didn't seem like a good guy; he seemed more like a crazy guy.

  "In my experience, guys with jerk fathers are almost always little jerks themselves."

  Elyse narrowed her eyes at me. She wasn't happy. If I was acting like a jealous idiot, it was because I was a jealous idiot. She'd had a lifelong relationship with some other guy, a guy who had shared in her secret life. They had gone to school together, spent days probably just hanging out and chilling. What can I say? I'm a regular American male — well except for the part where I may be the legendary monster of monsters — but as far as romantic mushy stuff went, I was just a regular red-blooded, jealous-of-guys-named-Kyle man.

  "Sorry. I'm a dude," I said. "We say stupid things like that when we realize we are totally into our hot best friend.". Yeah, when needed to, I can apologize with the best of them. I'm not a total idiot. "Am I forgiven?"

  Elyse leaned over and put her arms around my neck. "Always."

  I gave her a peck on the lips. "Excellent. Let's go spread some Men in Black style misinformation," I said enthusiastically.

  Costco wasn't crowded that early on a Thursday morning. The crew working the customer service desk stopped what they were doing to stare at me as I walked in. I waved, and they immediately went back to looking busy. Weird.

  I led Elyse back toward the manager's office, drawing quick glances and some straight up stares from the cashiers on duty. Elyse stopped walking, pulling me to a stop beside her. Tony was standing in front of us, blocking our path.

  "Hey, Tony. What's up?" I asked.

  He looked tired and little dazed.

  "They're calling us liars," he hissed. Ok, not dazed. Agitated.

  "What?" I didn't have to fake my confusion. I did not understand what he was talking about.

  "Liars. The news people, the people on the Internet, they're saying we faked the accident. Like that would be possible? The forklift flipped over." Tony was rocking front to back, running his hand through his hair. "I'm not a liar, Reid." He looked over at the cashiers and yelled, "I don't lie!"

  We resumed our walk toward the manager's office. I said, in a low voice, "Follow us, Tony, and we'll talk about it, but not out here." I did my best to herd him, without being overly aggressive. Tony is a good guy, and I hated seeing him so worked up. Elyse still had a hold of my hand and gave it a squeeze in encouragement. "Tony, I don't think you've ever met my friend, uh, girlfriend." I needed to get used to using that new introduction for Elyse. She had been in my life for so long it was weird I had to qualify her to people. "This is Elyse. Elyse, this is Tony."

  "Nice to meet you, Tony," said Elyse. She let go of my hand and reached for out for a shake, never breaking stride. This helped me get Tony moving in the right direction.

  Tony is well mannered, and so he took the offered hand and gave it a couple of pumps. "Nice to meet you too." His face softened, and he continued, "So, you're the reason Reid has had that goofy grin on his face lately?"

  "Goofy grin? Really?" Elyse gave Tony one of her million dollar smiles.

  "Oh yeah, all the time. And I can see why. I'd be grinning too."

  Elyse laughed.

  I could see the tension in Tony's body relax a little. It wasn't much, just a rounding of the shoulders and a loosening of the jaw. Wow. It must be my
new super-powers kicking in, because I don't think I would ever have noticed those things before today. They were so slight. What's the term I learned in Psych class? Oh yeah, micro-expressions.

  We reached the manager's office. The door was open and Becky was at her desk. I pulled back a couple of steps and turned to Tony, giving him my full attention. "I'm sorry for what's been going down."

  Elyse interjected, "What exactly were you talking about, Tony? The lying thing?"

  Tony's face tensed again, but I noticed his shoulders remained relaxed. "There's a guy on the internet, on YouTube, some science nerd. He shows, step by step, how the video could be faked, and concludes that we are both lying, for attention or something stupid."

  I hadn't seen the specific video Tony was talking about, but if the guy used real science to refute the forklift incident, it made sense that people were jumping on the 'it's a fake' bandwagon. What's easier to believe: an elaborate prank or supernatural shenanigans? I asked Tony, "Do you know who uploaded the security footage in the first place?"

  Tony shook his head, looking back over his shoulder to the retail floor. "Any one of these jerks could have done it." He looked back to Elyse and me. "Some people think that kind of crap is funny."

  Elyse continued her line of questioning. "So this science nerd had a whole forklift rigged up and everything?" I realized Elyse knew something, or at least was on to something. I paid closer attention to what she was saying and, more importantly, what she wasn't saying.

  "Nah. He has a copy of the video, and he freezes it and writes on it with arrows and stuff. Pointing out exactly how he thinks it was done. He also uses some video effects software to recreate that jump." Tony looked at me and I could see he wanted to ask about the jump again. I looked away before he got the courage to ask.

  "And this science nerd's YouTube video is what the news is using to talk about the story?" Elyse asked.

  "Yeah, pretty much. Like I said, they're calling us liars. We need to be interviewed or something and tell our side of the story. That it's real and all the . . ." Tony paused and caught my eye again. "All the stuff you did, is like an adrenaline rush or something."

  "Um." I wasn't sure how to respond. Speaking to reporters seemed like the last thing I should be doing. I wanted less attention, not more.

  Elyse squeezed my hand to get my attention. When I looked at her, I could see that my instinct had been correct. No news. No interview. She didn't speak, but she didn't have to. She was shouting at me with her eyes and I heard her loud and clear.

  I had to answer Tony very carefully. "You know, that might be a good idea. Let me talk to Becky for a minute, and I'll see you before I leave."

  The radio on Tony's belt squawked, and he snatched it up. "What's the problem?" Someone had spilled a carton of eggs in the dairy section and they needed Tony to help with cleanup. "I'll be right there." He slipped the radio back into his belt. "Before you leave?"

  "Absolutely," I lied.

  Tony nodded once, gave Elyse a smile, and strode off to clean up eggs.

  "You know we can't give him any more information, right?" Elyse asked.

  "Yeah. I got that." I blew out a big breath.

  "The video, the news coverage. It has the Society written all over it."

  That thought hadn't occurred to me. I just figured talking to the press would piss off Tommy and the other council members who sided with him.

  "That's them? The YouTube guy? You think?"

  "Disinformation is a proven tactic in keeping secrets. Governments have been using it for decades. The Society, for centuries."

  "So, I will be made out to be a lying idiot?" This news didn't make me happy. I understood why Tony was so angry. To have my integrity called into question: I'm not going to lie, it was going to hurt. Funny how most people — well, honest people — would take physical pain, like a broken arm, over having their integrity questioned.

  "You understand why, right?" Elyse was looking at me intently. "They have to make people disbelieve what they are seeing with their own eyes. An eighteen-year-old kid knocking aside hundreds of pounds, catching his friend, and performing a Spiderman-like jump: it's impossible. But their brains can't deny what they're seeing. It's right there on video. They can watch it over and over, in slow-motion if they want. So, the Society gives them something to explain it away. Something their rational minds can wrap around. Special effects. A prank. Internet silliness." She reached a hand up and caressed my cheek.

  I nodded in agreement and kissed her palm. I knew what I had to do. "I have to lie to Becky, don't I?"

  "If she asks if it was a prank, and I'm almost sure she will, then yes. I'm sorry." I knew she meant it, but it didn't make it any easier.

  "Okay. Let's do this."

  Becky's office wasn't overly large. She had just enough space for a medium size desk, with two chairs positioned in front of it. The manager of Costco can usually be found out on the floor, helping the staff to keep operations running smoothly. Costco was superb about promoting from within, so most managers, Becky being one, had worked most of the positions in the store. So, her experience in how things should run was vast.

  I stopped in the doorway of the office. Becky was typing on her computer. I knocked on the doorjamb to get her attention. "Becky, do you have a minute?"

  She looked up from her typing, surprise registering on her face. "Orson? I thought you were going to take the day off?"

  "I am. I mean, I'm not here for a shift, but I need to talk to you."

  She waved me in and her eyes widened when Elyse followed me into the office. I know it's bad form to bring your girlfriend to a meeting with your boss, but due to the current, otherworldly, circumstances, I needed the back up. "This is Elyse."

  Becky stood and she and Elyse shook hands. She then motioned to the chairs and we all took our seats. "I just want to say I'm sorry for the mess yesterday," I began.

  Becky held up her hand. "Before you continue, can I say a few things?"

  "Of course."

  Becky took a moment to gather her thoughts. She glanced at her computer screen, and at Elyse, who gave her a reassuring smile. Becky then focused back on me. "I've been on the phone all day with corporate. I've been dodging reporters' calls for interviews and have had to chase a few bold news crews out of the store." She paused, obviously searching for the right words to ask what I'm sure was the burning question from corporate and the news media.

  I let her off the hook. "You want to know if it was really an accident?" I asked.

  Becky shook her head. "I was there moments after the pallet went down. I saw you and you were out cold, not faking. Tony was shaking, he was so freaked out. There was no way that it was staged. No way."

  Elyse tapped my foot with hers. I couldn't tell the truth, but I also couldn't lie. Becky had been there; she had seen the aftermath.

  Becky continued, "I've seen the video. I'm still trying to find out who leaked it, and when I do, they will be looking for a new job. But I've also seen the video of that debunker guy. His explanation makes sense, but I was there, Orson." It was clear she was confused, and a little freaked out herself. The video of the accident clearly showed inhuman or superhuman abilities. A rational person living a normal ordinary life would naturally doubt what they saw and would assure themselves that there had to be a rational explanation.

  How do I help her accept what she saw but still keep the secret I had sworn to keep? There really was no answer. I thought about all the crazy shows I'd watched over the years about UFOs, alien abduction, and my favorite, the Ghost Hunter shows. Where regular people agreed to be interviewed about strange unexplainable things they had seen or experienced. Just about all of them came across the same way, confident about what they had experienced but with an underlying understanding that they sounded ridiculous and that they fully expected not to be believed. I could see it in Becky's eyes. She was almost to that point, and I was going to have to shove her over the edge.

  I ignored the q
uestion I could see burning in her eyes and simply said, "I'm here to give notice. I have to quit immediately, today."

  Becky sat back in her chair. Whatever she had expected from me, it hadn't been this. "You're quitting?"

  "Yes." I should have just left it at that and walked out, but it just wasn't in my nature. I had to soften the blow, at least a little. "This has been a great place to work. You've been a great boss, but due to a personal situation, I need to leave."

  "But the video? Corporate wants to send their own insurance investigator." Becky was trying to process the bomb I had just dropped into her lap.

  "I guess they can call me. You have my contact information." I stood up, Elyse following my lead.

  Becky came to her feet. "Orson, what do I tell them?"

  "Tell them the truth," I said.

  "And what, exactly, is the truth?"

  "Whatever it is you witnessed?" I suggested. I was leaving her and Tony to dangle in the wind, and I hated myself for it. There was nothing else I could do. The truth would lead to a place they weren't allowed to go and carried a heavy penalty for those who didn't guard its safety.

  Elyse slipped her hand into mine.

  "I'm sorry, Becky." I turned, and Elyse and I exited, leaving Becky standing behind her desk with a dumbfounded look on her face.

  I scanned the front of the store, looking for Tony. The coast looked clear. I hustled for the exit, Elyse by my side. I didn't make eye contact with anyone. When we reached the Corolla, I collapsed into the driver's seat.

  Elyse slid in next to me, reaching over to put her arm around my shoulder. "I know that was hard. I'm sorry." She stroked my hair.

  "Is this the way it's going to be for the rest of my life? Having to lie to everyone?" I couldn't keep the disgust out of my voice.

  "No. When this blows over, you'll have a secret that you don't share but you won't have to overtly lie to anyone." She turned my head so I faced her. "I've never lied to you. I've kept a part of my life private, but I've never told you an outright lie," she said.

  "That sounds like total BS. You know that, right? A lie is a lie."

  "So, you think that people aren't allowed something private? Something only they know about themselves? That everything must be out in the open?"