Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

February 13, 2020

I called Daniel at night, when Mom had gone out to pick up something for dinner. Aiden was lounging in my tiny living room, half-asleep, an open beer tipped precariously in his hand. I knew that was about the closest I was going to get to a good time to call him.

The phone rang five times before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Daniel?" I said, wincing at how squeaky and nervous my voice was. "It's um...it's A-Abby. Abby Kilken?" I nearly tripped over my own name, several other options popping into my head as I spoke.

"Uh-huh," he said, sounding a little distracted. I could hear rock music playing distantly in the background. "Caller ID's a wonderful thing," he added dryly.

I winced internally, then just decided it was best to dive in headfirst and get used to the chill in a hurry. "I'm...I'm sorry about...um..."

"Saturday?" He snorted. "That was nearly a week ago."

I'd lost track of my days, which I thought was a fairly reasonable thing to do after being pitched around through a couple different centuries.

"Yes." I heaved a sigh and said, "Look, I swear I didn't stand you up."

There was a deep silence on the line. I could make out a few lyrics of the music, and realized he was listening to Van Halen. Of course he'd have the same taste in music. "I'm listening," he said after a moment, and there was a slight shift in his voice.

"I was in a car wreck on my way to meet you."

There was a loud clattering and what sounded like a brief struggle as Daniel swore, then said, "God, are you all right?"

"I..." I wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, and a hysterical little laugh bubbled from me. "Um, yeah. I mean...no? I mean I have a broken collarbone and some bruises and...stuff."

Again, Daniel was quiet for a long time. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I said, "I really want to see you. To talk to you. Could we—is there any way we could—"

"Yes!" I started slightly at his emphatic voice. He took a breath, then said, "Should I come over later or—"

"No!" I squeezed my eyes shut and smacked my hand to my forehead, setting one of my bruises throbbing. "I mean, my mom and brother are here and I don't think..." This time, I took a breath. "Is there someplace else we can meet?"

I knew I shouldn't have made it sound like I wanted to meet him that instant, but I so did.

"Well," he said slowly. "I'm actually at work."

We were both quiet.

Finally, he let out a pent-up breath. "Could you get to the museum?"

"Museum?" I repeated blankly. 

"Yeah," he said with a hint of reluctance. "I can let you in."

"Okay." I gave an answer before I'd really thought it through. And because I had already dug that hole, I figured it wouldn't matter if I made it a bit deeper. "I can be there in around twenty."

"Okay. I'm...I'm glad you're okay, Abby. If I'd known—"

"I know," I replied, not sure what it was I knew. 

"See you soon then?" He gave a strained laugh. "Maybe take the bus?"

I made a face before I said goodbye and hit "end". Then I tilted my head back to rest it against the wall behind my bed, panic stirring in my chest as I considered how to see Daniel without giving my mother a heart attack.

The door clicking open made me sit bolt upright, sending pain crackling through my collarbone. Aiden leaned against the doorframe, then raised an eyebrow as he took a swig of his beer. I eyed him warily, but all he did was reach into his pocket and pull out the keys to his old Chevy.

"This guy..." he said slowly. "You were meeting him when you got in that wreck?"

I chewed on the inside of my lip, but I'd never been able to lie to Aiden. So I nodded and waited for him to pass judgement. His gaze roamed over my bruised face. "He's not another Brian, right?"

"Not even close," I said, my right hand clenching reflexively on my thigh.

Aiden nodded once, then held the keys out to me. "Please don't wreck my truck, Abby."

I hopped up from the bed and stuck my tongue out. "You know, that lady hit me, not the other way around."

He shrugged as I plucked the keys from his hand, then shooed him out of my room so I could dress, which was much more of a challenge than usual. When I emerged, Aiden was back in the recliner, his phone at his ear. "Yeah, Mom," he said, looking at me. "I know it's a pain in the...rear—" I snickered as he avoided swearing and he rolled his eyes "—but that's what she said she wanted. You're the one who said anything she wanted she got."

I heard some grumbling from the other end of the line. Aiden nodded along for a moment, then said, "Love you too, Mom."

He sighed when she hung up and tilted his beer toward me. "That's us even, Abs."

"How long will she be gone?" I asked, fighting with my jacket. Aiden took pity and stood to help me, flipping my hair out of the collar.

"Dunno," he said, "I told her you changed your mind and want Chinese instead."

I flung my good arm around him, earning a startled "oomph!" 

Looking up, I said, "It's sort of freakish, you know, that you can pick stuff like that perfectly? The nearest Chinese place is like thirty minutes away. And it takes another thirty for them to fill an order. That'll be perfect."

Aiden hugged me, resting his chin gingerly on my head. "Good," he said. "I hate lying to Mom."

"I'll try to be back soon," I whispered, my throat suddenly tight as I inhaled his familiar scent. It really had been too long since I'd seen my brother.

"Just be careful, Abby," he said. "Brian was lucky 'cause I was in Okinawa. If this one breaks your heart..." He trailed off meaningfully, and I hugged him tighter.

"I don't think he will," I whispered, because that was saner than saying he already had.

I pulled away with reluctance and left my apartment, trying to move as quickly down to the parking lot as I could.