Out of Touch (46 page)

Now Aliana’s hands kneaded her shoulders, the burning fluid feeling was both painful and pleasurable.

Sarah’s arms were crossed under her head, a wrinkled quilt beneath them, disheveled hair above. Aliana said, “Bring your arms down. Hasn’t anyone given you a massage before?”

“No,” Sarah answered as she quickly moved her arms.

“But you seemed to know so much the other day.”

“It’s just that stuff I don’t have words for.”

“Oh, Sarah,” Aliana said, her voice softening to a smooth Irish lilt. Then she didn’t say anything as she worked her hands slowly down along Sarah’s spine.

The touch was almost unbearable. Sarah wanted it, and on one level it felt good, but her mind practically screamed, bringing tension back each time her muscles began to release. Sarah was fighting so hard to relax that it startled her to feel tears on her face, as if she’d temporarily lost contact with that part of herself.

Aliana kept one hand massaging her back as she wiped the tears away with warm fingertips.

“Should we talk about it, Sarah? Is this about Reggie or something else?”

Sarah cried harder. Aliana just stroked her back for a while, then she gently kneaded her shoulders and upper arms.

Finally, Sarah calmed a little and said, “Maybe something I used to call jealousy is more like loneliness, or some kind of separateness I don’t have words for.”

“Try to tell me anyway.”

Sarah’s eyes had been closed for a long time, and she couldn’t make herself open them if she was going to talk. “Part of me’s happy that you fit in here and that you—”

“That I’m sleeping with someone,” Aliana kindly filled the awkward pause.

“Yeah, because I can’t be that for you now, but what we shared was so important to me, and I need to understand it.  There’s so much I didn’t understand with Reggie, and when I’m ready, I think I need to understand better with him, if he’s still willing to talk to me.  But I’m terrified to even call him, because there are these moments when he looks at me like I’m a monster.”

This time the pause stretched, and Sarah could feel her muscles tightening even as Aliana continued to knead.

Finally Aliana spoke, while pressing hard into Sarah’s back. “Have you ever been involved with anyone but Reggie?”

“Not seriously,” Sarah squeaked. She opened her eyes. The room was darker than before. With her head to the side she was barely able to see Aliana above her, but she needed to know her reaction. Aliana watched her own hands, but a quick glance showed she knew Sarah was looking. Her face showed no
judgment, and her hands kept moving.

“And until recently, you never told anyone about the way you feel touch or about your telekinesis? Not even family?”

“Since they turned me in, probably a good thing.”

“But your mum, a close friend?”

“There was so much I didn’t know, couldn’t explain.”

“And now you’ve let me in because you had no choice about sharing.”

“It’s not just that. You gave me a choice when you could, and there’s so much I admire about you—”

“Thanks,” Aliana blushed, something Sarah hadn’t seen before. “I think I should have checked in on you sooner. But well, I was trying things out, with telepathy and what you taught me about touch and meeting certain people here, there’s so much to experience. I was probably a little selfish.”

“It’s okay,” Sarah said, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t cry again.

“It happens. But I think you were more vulnerable than I realized, even having read your mind.” There was a pause as Aliana walked her fingertips all around Sarah’s back. “You know, even when I had to hear how much you hated having me hear your thoughts and how uncomfortable you were with mind readers, I never heard you think of me or any of them as monsters.”

“I could never think of you as a monster, and the people here may freak me out sometimes, but I don’t think any of them are monsters.”

“So, I don’t know Reggie very well, but from what I saw, he really cared about you. Even if he might ‘freak out a bit sometimes’ as you say, do you think he ever really saw you as a monster?”

Sarah couldn’t form words.  She let Aliana’s hands stoke big circles while tears fell from Sarah’s eyes.

Then very softly, almost as if she was talking to herself, Aliana said, “You know what I realized, just before I came here tonight? I realized that I trust you, and that it was making me feel vulnerable. What I didn’t realize was that you’ve been trying to trust me this whole time, or maybe the part of you that feels did trust me, and the part that thinks in words didn’t want to believe it.”

Sarah heard Aliana say it, and suddenly the whole jumble in her mind fell into order. Aliana was right, and the words were all Sarah needed. Her mind grew quiet and suddenly the backrub and her trust in Aliana were the most wonderful things she’d ever felt.

“Now you’re relaxing,” she heard her friend say and then she drifted without words for a very long time, just letting herself feel, relax, and trust.

Late the next afternoon, Sarah was shaping a bowl on a pottery wheel while Oliver adjusted the kiln. Glimpsing the pilot light, she asked, “Can you light fires with your mind?”

“No,” Oliver laughed, then turned with mouth slightly open, “You’re saying . . .”

Sarah’s bowl wavered on the wheel as her hands shook. She finished with just telekinesis, then said, “It’s got to be part of telekinesis. I don’t want to be the only one.”

“So teach me.”

Closing the kiln door, Oliver pulled an emergency kit from under the sink. In it was a tea candle. Oliver set it on the table, and Sarah lit it.

“But how?” he asked.

“How do we do any of it? I focus on something and want it to catch fire.”

Oliver blew out the candle and stared intently.

Just then, Doug looked in at the open door. “Sarah, could I speak with you for a moment?”

Oliver lowered his chin, and gave Sarah that “aren’t you popular look” he’d mastered so well, but only said, “I can finish up here.”

Sarah washed her hands and followed Doug out past the garden to a bench beside their grove of trees. She sat at the far end of the bench and picked at clay caught beneath her fingernails.

Without preamble he asked, “Do you still wish to know more of our science?”

“Yes.”

“Can you truly fool a palm lock from a copy of a hand print?”

Did he know that from her mind? Had she thought about it here?

Doug didn’t wait for her reply, “There’s a scientist who will answer the sorts of questions you were asking if you’ll help him board a plane as someone else and then take his place for one night.”

“Why’s he leaving?”

“Not our place to know, but the offer wouldn’t have come through me if the Druids didn’t trust him.”

“Did you know I’d say yes?”

Doug pulled out some papers. “Here’s a picture so you’ll recognize him, and in case you want to trim your hair to better match. You can travel to Heathrow as Tasha, here’s your passport.”

The woman in the photo was a decent match for Sarah. Was she someone else who asked a favor from the Druids? The photo of the scientist looked less like her.

“Cutting my hair will not make me look like this guy.”

“You’ll have his Macintosh and hat. With luck, it may rain. The hope is you’ll fool security cameras from several feet away. He’ll also give you papers with his palm print when you meet him.”

Sarah shrugged and shook her head, but her heart was racing and her shoulders tightened.

“This packet needs to be delivered unopened. It contains his papers, including the palm print you’ll use to start him on his way. Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the airport, and you’ll meet him at Heathrow.”

Sarah nodded and looked at the thin parcel wrapped in white paper. The seams in the back were glued not taped, and a pattern of Celtic knots had been painted over the edges, making the seals quite tamper-proof.

Doug stood and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. The sun was behind him and Sarah wondered if that was intentional. She imagined a class in Druid school about how to impress the peasants, and was once again glad that her thoughts were now silent.

Then Doug was gone and Sarah stood to walk back to the house.

“Back here,” came a whisper from the trees.

Sarah turned and saw Oliver. She rolled her head back then went over to him.

“So they’re using you as a courier. With a teek that usually means danger, but Doug asked me about the palm lock trick at lunch, so I kind of suspected. Could you teach me to do it?”

“Did Doug know you were here?”

“Who can guess with Druids? Can’t give the mind readers too much privacy though, they’d take advantage.”

“Would they?”

“You know what I mean. They talk mentally even when we’re around, and that’s rude. Like if I spoke New Gaelic with Doug when you were standing by, you wouldn’t like that.”

“You know New Gaelic?”

“Of course I do. Just like you know step dancing.”

“I was just amazed when I saw Aliana do it, and then I found out it was something I could do fairly well myself.”

Oliver stared at her with his chin poking forward. Her hands started to sweat on the curious white package. She shifted her fingers and looked to make sure they hadn’t left clay smudges.

“You should wrap that,” Oliver said. “Remember, my folks were in the community? Druid parcels are much less conspicuous when covered with wrapping paper. Come on, I’ll show you where it’s kept.”

Sarah followed Oliver into the pantry where he pulled a box of used wrapping paper from a bottom shelf. They were like kids before Christmas, digging through the box of tissue and slightly creased paper. Finally, they found a decent piece, a deep blue with lighter stripes, and covered over the painted white parcel.

After cleaning up the scraps, Sarah was eager to stash the package and begin packing. But Oliver leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyebrows rippled with worry. Sarah noticed a large ceramic bowl soaking in the sink. She reached out with teek, and Oliver followed her gaze to the hand rising up, first fingers, then palm, wrist, and arm. Sarah made it wave, and Oliver smiled.

July 27-28, 2025 – London, England

Every muscle in Sarah’s back was sore as she sat in the diner at Heathrow waiting to meet the man in the picture. The diner, like most of the terminal, was smooth-walled, with rounded edges at floor and ceiling. It was a faddish, modern look that should have seemed clean and careful. Instead, it reminded Sarah of public bathrooms with curved plastic baseboards and smooth plastic walls that shouted out, “Hose me down with disinfectant.” Not really the message she wanted while trying to eat lunch.

She’d ordered a bowl of onion soup. It was too salty, and Sarah kept having the urge to play with her food. Learning to teek liquids had its disadvantages.

Finally, the man came. His hair was short, and his face had a slightly doughy look, even less like her than in the picture. She nodded to him as he caught her eye. He smiled quite naturally and joined her at the table. A whiff of his cologne reminded her of burning cedar logs, making him seem older than a moment before. Then the salty smell of onion soup reasserted itself.

“How are you?” he said.

“Fine. I brought you a present.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he shrugged lightly, as he took the package and slid open both layers of wrapping with one motion. He removed a passport and airplane ticket and tucked them inside his suit coat. The rest he put into his briefcase.

“The items in the bag are for you. I’ll carry them until we leave. There’s a coat, a hat, and a muffler if it’s cold enough. Keep in mind that London’s the most surveiled city in the world. I left you instructions to my flat and to information you may want on my computer. It’s very good of you to do this.”

Sarah smiled at the man. He didn’t seem like a scientist or a Druid. He reminded her a bit of Oliver, only older, about to leave on a trip to who knew where.

“Do you want something to eat?” Sarah asked.

“No, no time. I’ll just wait while you finish—“

“I’m done.”

He pulled ten Euros from his wallet before she could object, and they were walking down the causeway toward the planes.

“Would a glance at the passport be enough, or do you need time to study the print?” the man asked softly as they trotted along.

“It’s safest if I’m looking at it while you hold your hand just a fraction of an inch above the scanner.”

“Very well.”

There was almost no line at security. As their turn arrived the man handed Sarah his large shopping bag and pulled out his papers. He handed the passport and air ticket to the security guard who scanned them then passed them back. The scientist turned to Sarah and said, “Have you seen this picture of me? I look quite daft.”

He handed her the passport to look at just before he reached his hand out over the palm scanner. Sarah stared at the palm print on the facing page and teeked the machine until a green light came on.