Crow - The Awakening (33 page)

Brian watched Steven walk off toward the park and sighed, shaking his head. He looked back at where Steven had been laying in the grass when he was being beat on. There were several scorch marks where the grass had actually charred. Raising an eyebrow, he walked over to the burned grass and picked a few blades. They crumbled in his hand as he inspected them. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at the kid who had by now made it to the park and was slipping into the bushes. Brushing his hands off, Brian got up and walked in the opposite direction from the park, humming a hymn as he disappeared into the night.

Steven stretched and rolled on his side. The meadow was absolutely delightful. The day was overcast and a slight mist left a moist sheen on everything, but was still bright and very warm. The smell of the flowers and moist grass wafted over him, and he soaked it in. He looked up at the tree towering overhead and wondered if he should get up and climb it. It had been a long time since he last raced Asherah to the top.

He turned his attention to Asherah and noticed how comfortable they both were and decided to climb later. It was good to just lay there and be together. Asherah was laying next to him and they faced each other. She caressed his face and played with his hair and he kissed her palm. A smile lit up her lovely face, but it looked like she had been crying.

"What's wrong, Asherah?" The thought of her crying made his heart ache as he reached out and cradled her face in his palm.

"I tried to help you, but it wasn't good enough," Asherah said quietly as Steven wiped a fresh tear from her cheek.

"Oh, Asherah, you're always better than I could ever deserve," Steven said softly. He didn't know what she was talking about because they both were perfectly fine. But he was concerned that she felt like she had failed.

"I took your pain but it was too much for me," Asherah whispered apologetically.

"Oh, honey, you did just fine." Steven embraced her, wishing he could comprehend what she was saying. She held him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Her furry cheek felt wet on his neck but he didn't care. Her touch thrilled him and he smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair, completely content. They were together now and everything was okay.

"I'm so happy you are safe," Asherah whispered in his ear. "I was so afraid." She wrapped her arms more fully around him and squeezed him harder.

Steven felt her tremble as she held him. Of course he was safe. What was there to worry about? Steven didn't pursue that, however, preferring to lay there intertwined with Asherah, as he basked in her embrace. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck and nuzzled his cheek, trying to catch her breath. After a long while he felt her trembling calm down and he smiled as she relaxed. He could feel it in his heart as her terror evaporated. He had no idea what she was afraid of, but was delighted when she pushed the fear aside.

"My father knows about you. I had to tell him," she said, pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. "I was so excited." He found her eyes mesmerizing and could stare into the milky pools of liquid moonlight all day long. Her irises had two main colors that seemed to alternate in dominance depending on her mood. Currently they were a light bluish gray with flecks of yellow. She sighed and he could feel her sadness. "He doesn't want me to see you anymore." Tears dripped down the side of her face onto the grass below as they lay there. "He doesn't know that's impossible now and he'll be so angry when he finds out why."

"Oh, don't cry. You'll make me cry," Steven said, kissing her wet cheek as he fought his own tears. He held her face in his hands, ever fascinated by the extremely fine, soft short fur that covered it. "I'm sure once he gets to know me, he'll change his mind."

Asherah smiled, covering his hands with hers. "I hope you're right, my love." Steven could tell her hope was wavering, however. He'd never met her father, but couldn't figure out why. Even his name slipped his memory, and try as he might he couldn't recall it, but he decided to not bother Asherah with that now.

"Maybe your mother could talk to him?" Steven was sure that would help. He had met her mother, he was sure of it. But he couldn't remember where. What was her name? He struggled with that too. He wondered why he couldn't remember them.

Asherah shook her head and sighed, her eyes brimming. "My mother is furious with you."

"Why?" Steven was starting to get offended. What was he doing to make everyone hate him?

"Because I love you." Asherah looked intensely at him, the yellow flecks in her irises pulsing as she silently wept. She kissed him softly and he wiped away her tears and kissed her cheek.

"If she knew me like you do I'm sure she would love me, too," Steven insisted, sure everything would turn out okay. How bad could it be?

"It's because she knows you like I do that she hates you." Asherah put her hand on his cheek. Her melancholy washed over him and he cried with her. He put his hand on hers and tried to take away her sadness, not wanting any of that for her. She breathed in suddenly, then caressed his face and kissed him deeply and he felt the melancholy wash away.

She looked in his eyes and smiled at him, then kissed away his tears. "Thanks."

Steven looked at her, confused. "Your mother knows me how?"

"She looked in here," Asherah put her hand gently on Steven's head, "and here." She moved her hand over his heart. "And she found me there." Steven remembered her words that day they bonded. She smiled at his remembering. "Yes. We are a part of each other now, and will be forever." Steven felt his spine tingle when she said that.

"What's wrong with that?" Steven couldn't understand how her parents could possibly dislike him.

Asherah kissed him tenderly again, lingering in the kiss for a long moment then looked in his eyes. She was trembling again. "Because you are a deviant, Steven. My deviant. But you are special. So very special," she whispered, caressing his face again as her tears fell to the grass again.

A what? Steven tried to form the question when the ground shifted back and forth and something poked him in the side. He tried to ignore it and looked back at Asherah, but it was getting foggier as she smiled sadly at him. He could barely see her. "Wait, I'm..." he said but got poked again, right on a bruise.

"What the?" Steven looked down and found a branch that had come loose and was jabbing him painfully. He looked around and saw a lot more branches, and felt totally disconcerted. "Asherah!" he called out, trying to find her, but there was nothing but branches around him. The wind picked up as he tried to sit up and a bough slapped him in the face. He spit out leaves as he ducked down on his little bed of branches, suddenly much more alert. A gentle rain was starting to sprinkle on him and the breeze was shaking the tree around him.

"No way!" Steven exclaimed as he rolled on his back on his bed of woven tree branches, rubbing his eyes. The dream was fading fast but the gist of it remained with him. His heart ached for Asherah, even though he knew she was just in his head. He hated those dreams. They always seemed to color the rest of his day.

Reality started to filter in as his bed shifted in the wind, threatening to come unwoven. Steven sat up groggily. He was moving slower than usual and was extremely sore. Every bruise and scrape seemed to cry out for attention and he winced as he donned his backpack. He looked around the park. It was empty, probably thanks to the gentle rain. But he was getting soaked. When he was back in the forest, the rain never bothered him. But there in the city, he figured the wet dog look would probably not get him any jobs so he decided to find a dry place to collect himself and figure out his next move.

Steven balanced on a branch and extracted his staff which allowed all the smaller branches to unzip and his bed disappeared altogether. Sitting back on the branch, he took a deep breath, distracted by the dream again as the memory of Asherah washed over him. He missed her as much that day as he did two years ago and it infuriated him. Time was supposed to be the healer of all wounds, right? He was sure the dreams were the result of the stress of his situation and he was determined to fix that, soon. Once he got settled in where ever he ended up, he was going to make his own medicinal tea. All of the ingredients should be easy to find in nearby forests except one or two and Steven was sure he'd find a way to locate those. He had to if he was going to keep his grip on reality.

The bus stop provided shelter from the rain while he formulated a plan of action. Steven looked around, a little skittish from the night before, but no one else was there that morning. The steel pipe that was used to beat him was still on the ground a few feet away. Just looking at it hurt as Steven remembered the painful blows. He picked it up. It was heavy, and as he hefted it, Steven couldn't believe he wasn't injured more seriously or that he remained conscious during the whole attack. Just letting it fall on you would hurt, and the thief was putting all his strength into the blows. Shaking his head, Steven dropped the pipe into the trashcan, hoping no one else suffered from it like he did.

The memory of the assault was still vividly fresh and he crossed his arms, chilled all of a sudden. Never before had he faced anyone like that. He wasn't completely naive, given his access to the news. But to personally experience that violation brought the reality of the depravity of some people home for him. Steven couldn't imagine how anyone could live like that, so casually bringing harm to others for their own personal gain. Part of him almost felt sorry for the guy. Steven would recover, but that guy had to live with himself daily.

Steven's thoughts returned to his need to find work. He still had on his fairly nice clothes that he had worn to talk to Bret, though now they were soaked from the rain. He would need to clean up and dry off his clothes before heading out to interview for jobs. The homeless shelter looked to him like a viable option. He had no idea what to expect, though, and couldn't help being a little nervous. He looked up as a city bus slowed to a stop in front of him and he sorely wished he could run back to the forest. But he would not find his parents from there. The past seven years were a testament to that.

The bus ride was uneventful. This early in the morning it was mostly people on their way to work and everyone looked like they could really use a coffee. Steven grinned at the irony of that thought, given that there seemed to be a coffee shop on every corner in Seattle. He was surprised people didn't jitter all the way to work. He looked out, seeing one of those shops pass by. They also passed a large shopping plaza and Steven wondered if there were any herbalist shops in there that could help him with some of the harder to get ingredients of his tea. He craned his neck as they passed by, trying to scan the list of stores on its sign but didn't see anything that jumped out.

Sitting back, he frowned. He would have to go to the forest soon. Looking at the route map, he noticed a couple of areas where the bus line actually came pretty close to the fingers of forest that reached into the outlying areas of the city. As he approached his stop, he decided that he would hit up the forest right after getting a room, or bed, or whatever it was that the shelter offered. Far better that he got rid of distractions sooner than later, especially when he needed to concentrate on finding work and a new place to conduct his search from.

The shelter was an aging nondescript office building that looked like a short apartment highrise. Steven watched as the bus pulled away, then hiked up his backpack and walked into the main entrance. There was a large food serving area almost right inside the door and people were picking up sack lunches from the food bank already. He saw Brian in the group of volunteers passing out the brown paper sack lunches and waved at him. Brian waved back but kept working. Steven smiled, feeling better. It was nice to see a friendly face.

He walked over, standing out of the way, hoping to get a moment to thank Brian. The robber was in full frenzied mode and going for the kill when Brian showed up and Steven had no doubt he may have died right there in the grass without this man's intervention.

"You're looking much better, Steven," Brian said as he handed out sack lunches. All sorts of people had filed in and Steven was amazed at the diversity. Steven smiled at a few as they walked by, trying to keep from getting in their way.

"Thanks, Brian. I'd look a lot worse without you," Steven smiled. "I really appreciate your help."

"You're most certainly welcome, friend," Brian smiled kindly. Steven helped him move the empty crate out of the way and pull up a new crate full of freshly prepared meals and suddenly found himself helping hand out sack lunches as he talked to his new friend. He didn't mind, however. While he had a few bad days, it was humbling to meet people who had spent weeks, months, even years with no home and only a tenuous string of hope. He saw Brian dishing out a never ending stream of encouragement to them as they passed by, calling most by name and working to lift their spirits and was inspired how this homeless man was so dedicated to helping his peers when he himself could have used so much help too.

One of the managers of the shelter approached him, holding out a hand. "Hi there. I'm Mel."

Steven gave out another sack lunch then shook Mel's hand. "Steven." He looked around at the establishment and moved out of the way so another volunteer could get in and start handing out lunches. Brian winked at him as he looked nervously at him. Steven nodded and returned his attention to Mel. "I was hoping to sleep here for a few nights."

"If you walk this way, I'd be happy to perform your screening." Mel pointed to a desk tucked in a corner and Steven walked over there, wondering what a screening was.

"Now, I want to let you know up front that we can only house people who are eighteen and older and who have a valid picture ID," Mel said as Steven sat down.

"Why eighteen?" Steven was stunned. Not more bad news!

"We're just not licensed to serve minors. I'm really sorry." Mel looked sympathetic. He had guessed Steven's age right. "You can pick up a sack lunch, though."