The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Thirty Four - Disbelief

Disbelief

October:

“What’s going on?” The worry in Parish’s voice was tangible.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to decide where to start. “Do you remember that other Conduit Spade told us about? The one whose name and details he was trying to find in his boss’ old client journals?” I asked, fiddling with the book in my lap.

“Yeah, of course I do,” he said with a nod. “What about it?”

“He found the right journal,” I told him, opening the book up and flipping to the correct page. With a slightly trembling hand, I handed it to him. “It’s the fifth name on the left page.”

He took the book from me and, frowning, searched the page for the right name. I knew the instant he spotted it, because his entire body went rigid and, for a moment, it looked like he had stopped breathing all together. His eyes went wide, and when he finally looked up at me a few moments later, they were filled with shock, disbelief and awe.

“Claudia Feltman,” he said, running a shaky hand through his sun-kissed brown hair. “Claudia Feltman. My mother. She’s the other Conduit?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she was.”

“I don’t get it,” he said. “If she was a Conduit, and if she had been coming to Gomez for help, then why didn’t she ever tell me that I was a Sponge?” He made a face at the lame name. “I mean, maybe Gomez could have found a way to help me control my abilities, too.”

I shook my head, remembering what Spade had told us. “They had no idea what you were, remember? Gomez had to even name you. As far as they knew, there was no way to help you…” I trailed off, hoping he’d understand my meaning before I had to come out and say it. I didn’t think I could do that.

Luckily for me, comprehension dawned in his eyes. “…as long as she was in the picture.” He completed my sentence, his rich brown eyes suddenly filling with so much heartache that I just wanted to shut up and leave the story where it was instead of telling him the rest of it. If he looked so heartbroken now, how would he feel later, once I’d told him everything? “That’s why she left, isn’t it?” He asked me, dipping his head slightly so that he could look me in the eyes. “To help me get better.”

I sighed. “I think so. Yes.”

Suddenly, he perked up, something occurring to him. “Maybe their boss will know how to get in touch with her,” he suggested, sitting up a little straighter. “We could call her or meet up with her and explain everything. She could come back.”

If he’d punched me in the chest, it probably wouldn’t have hurt as much.

“Parish,” I said mildly, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Do you remember, on our first night in solitary, I woke you up by screaming in my sleep when I was having a bad dream?”

He nodded, frowning. “Yeah?”

“And do you remember how I told you that, in my dream, I’d been saved by this strange yet familiar voice that kept calling its child?”  He nodded again, this time a little more wary than confused. “Well, over the past two days I’ve been hearing that same voice. I heard it last afternoon, just after we’d put you to bed and again this evening, immediately after Spade showed me the name in the book.”

He stood up slowly, hands trembling with… anger, it looked like. He’d figured out where I was going with this. “No,” his voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Parish, please,” I stood up too, my voice pleading.

“No,” he said again, turning around quickly and leaving the den with quick strides. I ran after him, following him into the kitchen.