The Originators

CHAPTER 20: LOVE HURTS (MERC)

I.

Crash, bounce slightly, then dent the ground less forcefully the second time she rises a few inches, falls, and I see her die.

I let myself fall to Earth. I kneel beside her. Her pale, blonde hair is spread out. Laura.

Resting on her side, Laura has one hand is up, the other cradles her stomach. There is nothing to indicate she is dead. I don't believe it. Her cheeks are still pink, her eyes closed. I choose to believe she is napping.

Rest might give her a chance to feel better; to get up.

"Laura? Laura?" Slowly, cautiously I grip her shoulders; rock her in the shaky, jagged way we do when we are alarmed, not knowing if our actions will make any difference. We are tricking our minds with optimism, when we already know there is no difference to be made. Trying to avoid any contamination from this final introduction to death, I hastily withdraw my hands.

Resting on my knees, I lose myself in a blind, staring eye-lock with the swans paddling off to the right. A mallard duck comes up, boldly, webbed feet surely moving towards us. I consider it briefly, it interferences with my thoughts of the possibility she is truly dead. I wonder if I'm dreaming, acknowledging the possibility. I fall back from my knees; my legs splayed before me, I flop back so I'm lying on the ground, next to her.

Her foot, encased in a little flat, shiny, silver shoe rests next to my head. I reach out a hand and push it. It moves slightly; within fifteen seconds, it flops back into place. A game I decide.

I wait 5 minutes; push it, it takes 20 seconds to stiffly bend towards the ground. I wait 10 minutes to try again; it takes thirty seconds. This time it's not really moving that well. I wait 30 minutes. After I wait 2 minutes, it doesn't move. I tap the foot. I push it down; I think I hear small fissures and snaps; a hard candy crunch.

Clutching, pushing in my stomach, smelling the mint on my hand, I avoid throwing up.

"Hello. Anyone there?"

I push the foot. I lift it up and let it drop.

I move over, closer to her foot; holding it I start to sob. I cry in a flood of regret, sorrow, loss. I'll miss her so. I will never find anyone like her. My tears sink into the Earth soften it, moving it. A miniature stream builds. I cry. The stream begins to drains into the lake. Still I cry.

I have only truly loved once. She's gone. I keep crying. The rains start up; showers fall from the sky, slightly angry at first, then maddened, it pours. I clutch her foot, crying. The lake's waves build. I look up for a moment; noting all the sailboats; cruisers, rowboats, steel-bottomed boats are hitting shore.

The water keeps rising, breaking past the flimsy, rotting wood bulkhead, seeping, creeping up to us.

"Enough, boy! Tears wasted. You'll really have something to cry about when you are at the bottom of the lake in your new, very permanent home."

I know this voice. It's...

Miss. Sac. She's with Bat; they are standing above me, faces twisted.

"It would appear Laura's dead. We now have to start over in our search for our new home," Bat announces. Her hair's coiled two cones, twitch and smoke. "Do you know how much time we have wasted here? On you; on this pathetic planet?"

"Come on, Merc." Miss. Sac's eyes narrow, licking her lips, she holds out her hand, "No, need to play coy, boy. This planet, even if your little girlfriend managed to shut down all of our machines, and stopped us, means nothing to us."