"Do what?"
"Know that."
"You mean it's true ?"
"Yes. That's what she was telling me, telepathically. "
"Really?" I asked. "I don't know, I just kind of knew. But she's dead, isn't she? Your twin, I mean,"
Fiona nodded. Mike explained. "When she was born, she was a Siamese twin. They had to separate them. Unfortunately, Fiona was left with having two hearts, and her sister died, since she had none."
"So, when that, that wolf, ate part of your insides, it was the extra heart," Peter said, hesitant.
"Yes," said Mike. " And it actually did her a favor. She'd been saving money to get an operation. " Mike looked hesitant as Peter had. He looked at Peter. "Can we talk Pete?" he asked. Peter nodded, and they both left the cabin. Micky and I looked at each other.
"They're hiding something," Micky said. "I wonder what it is."
"They've been hiding something since we came here, Micky. Maybe we shouldn't have come."
"Hey Davy, maybe you could find out what they are talking about."
"What, do you mean, eavesdrop?" I asked.
"No, do that thing you did before when you could tell what Fiona was saying to Mike, and she wasn't saying it aloud," he explained.
"Micky, I don't know how to do that," I said. " It was a freak occurrence, a lucky guess. It won't happen again."
Anyway, our opportunity was lost to even try, because at that point, Mike and Peter returned.
About a week later, Fiona was fully recovered. She looked fine. In fact, to look at her, you never would have guessed that a week earlier, she been nearly killed by a large, ferocious wolf. She told us that she had something important to tell us all, and waited until we were all in the cabin and sitting around the fire to she proposed her idea. She stood in the center of us, holding a box.
"Here, I want you all to have this," she said, handing Peter the box. He opened it. Inside was a large amount of large bills. Hundred dollar bills. Peter's blue eyes grew big and he stared at the money.
"We can't take this," Mike said. Micky opened his mouth, but before he could say what I was almost certain he would say, I poked him in the stomach with my elbow.
"Don't even think about it," I said. Micky gave me a "that hurt you little creep" look and rubbed his stomach. Everyone else thought this was rather amusing. Micky disagreed.
"Seriously, though, I want you guys to have it. I had it saved for an operation, to remove the hindrance of having an extra, useless heart. But now, I don't need the operation, and I know how much you guys want to get home. Not that I'm throwing you out, it's been wonderful, but I know you don't want to stay here. I want you to use this money to take you all home, plus the 2 cars. First-class."
"Oh, you really don't need to do that, Fiona. We could just drive the cars." Mike said, still obviously not thrilled about taking the money.
"Oh, no, Mike, I insist," she said. "It's the least I can do for you all, I am glad I could meet you all, you've helped so much. That's that. I won't take no for an answer," she said, firmly, and this made Mike shut up.
"Alright, we'll take it," he reluctantly agreed. "But note that I am protesting this."
"Your protest is noted," she replied, grinning.
"Davy, I was very impressed with your communication skills," she said.
I looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, when I was trying to communicate nonverbally with Mike, you picked up on exactly what I was trying to say even better than Mike did when I was trying to talk directly to him. That's pretty amazing. "
I continued the odd look. She attempted to explain.
"You see, " she began. "I have a natural thing which most twins have. This is a sort of ESP that exists between the twins. However, since my twin died shortly after birth, I retained all of the 'powers'."
"Oh, I see," I said. "But what does that have to do with me?" "Well, " she said. "When I was looking at Mike, I was trying to use these 'powers' to tell him what was going on. This isn't easy with people who don't have these 'powers'. However, you received what it was I was trying to tell him without my trying to tell you. "
"Are you saying that I have these 'powers'?" I asked. She nodded. "But how did I get them? I've never had a twin."
"Some people just do. It's like some people can sing and some can't. It's a talent you just have at birth. But you didn't realize it until now. You'll have to work on it and then you'll be able to do it better. "
"I don't understand. What do I do to use it. Before, I just kind of knew. I got a picture in my head, and the next thing I knew, I understood it. How do I do that voluntarily?"
"I can't tell you that. It's something you have to figure out on your own. And you will. Don't worry. "
As I was beginning to ponder this, Micky and Peter walked in. "Man, it's really snowing out there," Micky said. He shook the snow off his head and dropped a large pile of firewood on the floor. Peter followed and did the same.
"Mmm, that smells good," Peter remarked. He went to the fire and added some more wood. He and Micky took off their coats and stood in front of the fire to warm up.
Then we all sat down to eat. My mind was not fully there. I was still thinking about what Fiona had told me. It was pretty heavy stuff.
"Two weeks?" I asked. "That seems a little ridiculous to me."
"Yea, well it seems there isn't a great desire in Alaskans to go to LA," Mike said.
"So what do we do for the next two weeks?" Peter asked. " Just hang around?"
"I guess so," Mike said. "That's about the only thing we can do."
"You know, I especially want to thank you. I've been here the longest, and you've been a great help to all of us. I just want to thank you," Mike said, unsure of what to say.
"Mike," she said, looking at him. "There's no need to thank me. I just worry how you and Peter will survive in the city. Not Peter really, but you. Will you be alright?"
"I think so. " Mike said. "The guys should be able to handle me, right Pete? "
Micky and I looked at each other. We had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. (again)
Peter was next. "I think that we should tell them as soon as we get home, Mike," he said, closing the subject. Then he turned to Fiona. "Thank you so much. You've been such a nice person to allow us to take over for a month or so and turn your life upside-down. And now to give us the money... Just, thank you. I can't say anything more. "
"It was a pleasure having all of you," she replied. Then she looked at me. "I hope that you will realize your true potential," she said. Then I got a beautiful image in my head, of a rainbow, a waterfall, and a beautiful paradise. No, actually, it was more than that. I received a calm, serene, happy feeling. Not from the scene itself, but because the image was the best way to visually express that feeling. It was much more than that, but I can't even begin to describe it in words. I just stood there for what must have been a few minutes, when I was jolted out of it.
The guys were already getting in to the cars, and it was Micky's voice calling to me which jolted me out of my trance.
"Thank you," I said, unable to express my thoughts in words. Somehow, with Fiona, I didn't feel the need to. She just nodded and smiled with an all-knowing happiness and gestured toward the cars. Micky yelled at me again, did I want to go or remain in Alaska? I shook myself out of my trance and ran over to the cars.
Micky, Mike and Peter got into a discussion as to who was to drive which car home. I didn't pay attention, I wasn't even aware which car I got into, only that I didn't drive. The next two days were all a blur to me. All I remembered was that we got to the city after a day, rented a hotel room, and fell asleep. I wasn't even aware of the night we spent in the woods, though I'm sure it occurred. I don't remember it. And a few days later, when I awoke in the hotel room, I was absolutely surprised to be there.
"Hey, look who's alive," Micky said. He leaned in over me and felt my forehead. "You feel better ?" he asked.
"I feel fine," I said. " How did I get here?"
"You don't remember?" Mike asked. "We're in a hotel, in Anchorage. Do you remember? "
I thought back to the last thing I remembered. We'd been at the cabin, saying good-bye to Fiona. Then I remembered the image and feeling I'd received. I decided not to bother to attempt to explain this all to the guys. "Yeah," I said. "I guess I was kind of preoccupied."
"To say the least," Mike said. "You back in the real world now?" I nodded. "Good. Because we have a flight to go home today."
After that, we all packed up and drove to the airport. We took both the cars and had them put in cargo, so we could take them home. Then we boarded the plane. Micky and I got two seats together, and Mike and Pete took another two seats. We all put on our seat belts, and prepared for takeoff. The sun was just going down. Micky, graciously, allowed me to have the window seat. (Actually, I think it might have been a fear of heights, but I didn't say anything.) Then a stewardess came around and offered us all coffee, tea, or champagne. We all took some coffee and sat back and waited for takeoff.
After we were up in the air, I took the liberty of looking out the window. It was dark by then, and I could see the stars. The full moon was off to one side, and it looked absolutely gorgeous out.
"Hey Micky, you wanna see this?" I asked. "The full moon is gorgeous." Micky shook his head.
"I'm tired," he said, making himself comfortable for the flight home. A few minutes later, he was sleeping like a baby. Behind us, I could hear Mike and Peter talking. I turned around and looked over the back of the seat.
"Anything wrong?" I asked. Mike was holding his stomach.
"Oh, we're fine," Peter said. "Mike's just a little airsick." Mike moaned as if to confirm this. I turned around and made myself comfortable. Behind me, I could hear Peter. He was telling Mike some jokes to take his mind off the pain. They were dumb jokes, but they worked.
"Mike, it'll be ok. Just relax and hope that the sprang doesn't spring, er, that is that the sprung doesn't spring, er um, the uh.. I know, hope the spring doesn't sprang." he said, snapping his fingers. "Or maybe not," he added.
Despite the stupidity of the joke, Mike laughed, but then he moaned again in pain. "Oh Peter, " he moaned. "It hurts. "
Peter continued telling dumb jokes, mostly about chickens crossing the road. Though they didn't relieve the pain, they seemed to work at taking Mike's mind off the pain. I was tired, too, and I spent the rest of the flight in a restless sleep.
"Davy, wake up," Micky said. "We've landed. We're home." I rubbed my eyes. It was dark outside, and the inside of the plane didn't look any different. I followed Micky sleepily out of the plane and into the terminal. The crowded room, with what must have been half the city of Los Angeles, awoke me. It isn't wise to be half asleep in LA. It could be dangerous to your health. We all went out into the parking lot, where our cars were waiting.
At this point, Mike moaned and groaned in pain, holding his stomach.
"What's wrong with Mike?" Micky asked.
"Nothing," Peter said. "Just some, um, residual effects of motion sickness. He'll be fine. "
"But he shouldn't drive," I said. "Let me drive him."
"I don't think you should, Davy," Peter said.
"Why not?" I asked. "We'll be fine. C'mon Mike." I helped Mike into the back seat of the car. "We'll meet you guys back at the pad," I said, as we sped off.
"You alright, Mike?" I asked. He moaned in pain. I decided to not bother Mike.
Mike attempted to get out of the car. He stood up. Just at that point, however, the car started again after stopping at a light, and he fell down between the seats. His arms grew to the length of his legs, his hair grew longer and spread quickly over his whole body like a wave of the ocean. His fingers molded together and his hands became paws. Then, his face seemed to stretch out and contort in an odd, indescribable way. Then, Mike was no longer there, but in his place was a large, ferocious wolf. The car was stopped at a red light. I turned around to check on Mike, oblivious to the change.
My eyes searched the darkness, and I caught hold of nothing. "Mike?" I asked. I got no response. Then, the back door was dislodged and flew off onto the sidewalk. (Boy, was I glad it wasn't Mr. Babbit's car) I wanted to call for Mike again, but something told me that wouldn't be a good idea. Something flew out of the door onto the sidewalk. I looked out the window and saw the large, hideous wolf running off down an alleyway.
"A what?" Micky asked. He looked at me and waited patiently.
"A werewolf."
I turned to see who had spoken. "Peter?" I asked. "How'd you know?"
Peter shrugged. "It was kind of obvious," he said. "I just sort of could tell, you know, since.." he didn't elaborate, but there was no need to.
"So what do we do now?" I asked. "Just wait for him to return?"
Micky spoke up. "Is this what you guys were hiding from us, Peter? Why didn't you just tell us? I mean, we would have found out eventually anyway. "
"I know, " Peter said. "But Mike didn't want to, and Fiona and I didn't think it'd be wise to tell you if he didn't want you to know. I wouldn't have known, either, if I hadn't gone up there to look for him. "
"So now what?" I repeated.
"I suppose we just wait. He'll come back sometime soon," Peter said. I went to the window and looked out. The sun was beginning to rise. I realized how exhausted I was. After Mike had run off, I'd just sort of stayed there until the cops came. They asked me what had happened, and I didn't respond. They must have thought I was insane, or high on something, because I didn't really answer. Actually, I was confused, though mostly it was because I knew they wouldn't believe my crazy story.
Then, there was a sound in the hall and Peter ran out to see what it was. It was Mike. Peter helped him into the house, and wrapped a blanket around him. Then he led him up the stairs. I could hear Peter saying something to Mike about a nice hot bath. Then I heard the water running. Peter came back down the stairs and sat on the couch. Micky and I looked at him, silently.
"Peter," I said.
"He'll be fine," Peter said. "Right now he's just killing himself because he thinks it's all his fault. "
"I'll make him some breakfast," Micky offered generously. "Although perhaps not. He needs to sleep. We all do. It's been a long night. "
"Peter," I said. "Tell Micky."
Micky turned and looked at me. "Tell Micky what?" he asked. "Is there something else you're not telling me? There is. What is it? Why do I feel so much like I'm a kid again, and no one wants to tell me anything." Micky was becoming hysterical.
"Relax, Mick," I said. "He didn't want to tell me either, it was an accident."
Peter looked absolutely in shambles. He looked at Micky and I. Then, all of the sudden, we all stopped talking, as the water shut off. Peter sighed.
"I suppose I should tell you, Micky. After all, everyone else knows. "
Peter sat down next to Micky and began to tell him the story of how he became the cute, lovable, semi-deadly puppy. I went into the kitchen and made some eggs. By the time Peter finished his story, it was a half-hour later, and the eggs were done. I brought them out and set them on the table.
"If anyone wants some eggs, help yourself," I offered. Peter shook his head, sadly, and headed toward the stairs.
"I'm gonna go help Mike," he said. He trudged up the stairs.
Upstairs, Mike had finished his bath and was lying in bed. He was staring at the ceiling and thinking.
