A Knight Of The Word

John Ross.

She recognized him immediately. Even though it had been five years since she had seen him last and she had been only a girl at the time, she recognized him. He didn’t look as if he had changed at all. His boyish face was still weathered and rugged, still all planes and angles, still the face of the bay next door grown up. He still wore jeans and a blue denim shirt with worn walking shoes and a silver-buckled belt, looking as if he might be one meal or one paycheck from being homeless himself He still wore his long brown hair tied back from his face with a bandanna, and lie still carried the heavy black staff.

It was as if he had been frozen in time, and while she had changed, grown into a young woman, he had remained exactly the same.

She watched him climb gingerly from the taxi, leaning heavily on the staff, reach back to pay the driver, then start toward the front door of Fresh Start. She straightened and moved away from the wall. He looked at her without recognition and smiled pleasantly.

Then surprise shadowed his face and turned quickly to astonishment mingled with something else. He stared at her” slowing, then came forward again, an uncertain smile chasing the feelings back into hiding.

“Nest?” he asked carefully. “Is that you?”

“Hello, John,” she greeted.

“I don’t believe it,” he said.

He stopped in front of her and stood there awkwardly, shaking his head, the smile broadening. His clear green eyes looked her up and down, assessing her, comparing her with what he remembered. She could read everything in his expression-how much she had changed, and at the same time, how familiar he found her.

She started to extend her hand, then stopped, feeling it wasn’t enough. He glanced down, then up again, meeting her gaze, and their arms extended toward each other at the same moment and they embraced warmly.

“Nest, Nest, Nest,” he whispered, and he said it with such tenderness that it made her want to cry.

She drew hack after a moment and grinned. “Guess I’ve changed a bit from what you remember.”

He returned her grin. “Guess you have. You look good, Nest. You look... terrific.”

She blushed in spite of herself. “Well, gee.” She shook her head in embarrassment. “You look pretty terrific yourself.”

They stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at each other. People walked by, a few glancing over curiously, but neither one paid the least attention. For Nest, it was as if time had stopped completely. She wasn’t prepared for how good it was to see him. She wasn’t prepared for how good it made her feel. She had come looking for John Ross because she believed she must if she did not want his death on her conscience, and not because she felt she needed to see him. She had lived five years with such ambivalent feelings about him that she could not come to terms with whether she ever wanted to see him again. Now, in an instant in time, five hears of uncertainty were swept away, and she knew that coming to find him, that seeing him, was exactly the right thing.

“I just can’t believe that you’re standing here.” He opened his arms to emphasize the extent of his amazement, °I suppose I should have written you or called, but I wasn’t sure... well, that you would want to speak to me.”

She smiled sadly. “Neither was I. Not until right now.”

“How did you ever find me?”

She shrugged. “I had some help.”

“I didn’t think anyone knew where I was. I haven’t talked to anyone, told anyone here about…”

“I know. They told me you’ve kept your life a mystery.”

“You’ve been inside already?” He glanced toward the doorway. “You met Simon?” She nodded. “And Stef?” She nodded again. “Ray, Carole, all the others?”

“Some of them, anyway. The lady at the reception desk, Della, sent me downstairs to wait for you. I met everyone there. They were amazed you had any friends from the past.” She gave him a meaningful look. “They were amazed you even had a past.”

He nodded slowly, “I expect so. I don’t ever talk about it.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what to say. Or where to begin. Things have changed for me, Nest. A lot of things.”

“I know that, too,” she said.

He looked closely at her now, and suddenly there was suspicion as well as curiosity mirrored in his eyes. “I’ve read some articles about you,” he said, his words tentative, cautious. “I know you’re a student at Northwestern University, that you’re still running competitively, that you’re good enough that you’re expected to represent the United States in the next Olympics! He hesitated. “Is that why you’re here?”

She waited a heartbeat, meeting his intense gaze. “No. I came here looking for you. I was sent. By the Lady.”