Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

8

Alex closed the bedroom door and headed to the kitchen. Funny, all the anxiety had just vanished the minute she'd seen Tom again. She didn't know why, but having him around made her feel such a special... calm. Just like she 'd felt being alone with him in the woods, or when they talked over the phone. He knew, he understood, he'd never get in her way. And what was more: she could always trust him, whether to have her back, make the right call or show her the way.

She paused at the living room to pick some music. It was a good night to listen to some Sarah McLachlan. She went on to the kitchen and circled the breakfast bar on her way to make coffee. No matter how calm Tom made her feel, it didn't affect the tinkling of desire in her fingertips. She could almost hear what Claire would have to say about it, so she cut her niece off in her head—No, Claire. It's not butterflies in my belly.

However, she didn't quite know how to behave around Tom. The most surprising part of his unexpected visit was bringing his song along. The fact that he would spend there one of his few chances to be with him. Nevertheless, Alex thought that bringing Samuel was the most diplomatic trick ever to friendzone her.

She scoffed, muttering. "As if it'd change a thing!"

"Change what?"

Alex spun around to find Tom coming to the breakfast bar. Looked like he was back to his controlled, distant self now his son wasn't around.

"How d'you like your coffee?" she asked, stating she wouldn't answer his question.

"Anyway you have it."

"Samuel's sleeping?"

"With the book you gave him? Not a chance. I negotiated one hour."

She brought their mugs to the bar and sat opposite him, determined to bite her tongue and wait for him to start the conversation—any conversation.

Tom took his time to sip his coffee. When he faced Alex again, she knew there were no traces left of the smiling dad from only ten minutes ago. This was the broody man she'd met in the woods. However, his first words surprised her.

"I've been looking into what happened to you," he said. "I asked the Skagit Elder I met years ago about the garthling," he said. "And he told me some interesting stuff."

Alex nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. He did.

"He talked about something he called 'channeling'. He says some people are born 'channelers'. They can direct, or redirect, different kinds of energies to work for them. Have you ever heard anything like this?"

She looked away, thinking hard because what Tom said did ring a bell. Then she recalled Bootter's words, twenty years ago.

"The highway people!" she gasped.

"Come again?"

Alex met his eyes with a focused frown, gathering the scattered fragments of that memory.

"Grandpa told me about it. I think I was ten back then. About what the Elder calls 'channelers'. He said... He said I'm one."

"Makes sense. That's what the Elder thinks, too. He said you gotta be a natural in order to bring your friend back to life, not dying in the process."

"What? What're you talking about? What d'you mean 'bring back to life'?"

"Didn't Claire tell you? She told me she only sensed your friend alive after losing track of you completely. And then you guys were back, and you were off."

Alex didn't mean to close her eyes. More scattered, blurry memories flashed at Tom's words. This time from her desperate search for George in The Guardian's cave. The firm touch of Tom's hand pressing hers made her face him again.

"You transferred your vital energy to him, Alex," he said. "And in doing so, you pushed yourself to the brink of death. That's why you couldn't find your way back."

"What else did the Elder say?" she muttered, overwhelmed.

Tom sipped more coffee and raised his eyebrows. "Let me see... Naturals can channel any kind of energy, and you can learn to do it in a rather safe way. The catch is that channeling takes a toll on you."

Alex frowned again, trying to remember more of what Bootter had told her so many years ago. She failed. She clicked her tongue, released her hand from under Tom's and jumped from her stool to hurry to the living room.

Tom followed her, curious. He found her before the large bookcase, checking the index of a big old book. She snapped it closed and took another old book, and another, and another. She shook her head, snorting.

"Nothing! I gotta go to the farm."

"Now?"

Tom's serious question made her flash a tight smile. "No. Of course not now, but first thing to—Shit! Claire's got the car!"

"The parade starts at noon, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"I can take you to the farm early in the morning. Samuel would love a few hours outdoors. You can grab what you need and we can be back in time for the parade."

It was Tom's turn to smile at Alex's surprise. He gave her a moment to snap out of it. She didn't.

"Coffee is getting cold," he said softly.