Something of a Kind

chapter 19 | ALYSON

“Yes, I’m sure I’m fine,” Noah murmured, eyes closed. “We’re almost there anyway.”

Every time he spoke, Noah sounded as dazed as he did halfdead. It wasn’t alarming until she glanced his way. Face twisted in agony, a hand on his shoulder, he slumped against the window.

I forced him to go up there… he got hurt protecting me.

Worried and guilty, she continued, “Are you sure you’re sure?”

He sighed. “Aly, I was up all night. I’m honestly just tired.”

He hasn’t yawned once, and he was running through the woods like a jaguar.

“I believe you,” she lied, her voice low. “I know what happened to Sarah has got to be really overwhelming… It might help if you… Just… Just keep talking.”

“What do you want me to say?” he mumbled, grimacing with another wave of pain.

Why didn’t he look like this when we were three yards from a paramedic?

“Tell me one of your stories,” Aly pleaded, eager for a reassurance that he was conscious. “Tell me of the sun thieves.” “There once was a wise man,” Noah said, “Who told his village about the worth of all people.”

~

With the clinic’s waiting -room-coffee in hand, Aly found comfort in the heated Styrofoam. The little stand on wheels across from her was the only warmth in the room.

Between waiting for Noah and being acutely aware of Greg’s unprovoked argument with the receptionist, her stress went from tangible to all-encompassing in a few minutes.

In her peripheral, she wasn’t sure if her father noticed her yet. Aly watched him accept a clipboard to sign something before handing it back. After a moment, Greg shoved through the tinted glass doors, eyes locking on Aly. As he approached, she lounged back in her chair, resting her head against the chilled wall.

“So,” she offered, head lolling to make eye contact. “Did you burn Maggie’s house down or something?”

He mumbled something to himself, dropping in the seat at her side. Audible, he added, “Believe it or not, Alyson, I’ve only ever had eyes for your mother. I’ve loved Vanessa since we were children.”

“Try telling the good doctor that.” She smirked, before adding, “Well, I already did. Didn’t go over so well.”

“Alyson,” he groaned, as though her name was an inconvenient diagnosis, “are you always this difficult about everything?”

Is this the elusive face of an embarrassed Greg Glass?

She shrugged, staring at the ceiling. “Soon enough, you won’t have to worry about it.”

His brow knitted, alarmed. “How do you expect me to take that?”

“My eighteenth birthday,” she notified. “Almost here, almost gone.”

He shifted, scratching his neck. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, “That’s not necessary, Alyson-”

“It is,” she interrupted. “How long have you known about the wood beast?”

He paused, evaluating how seriously she took the question. Seeming pleased, he straightened, explaining, “When I was working at the university in Albany. I was driving a scenic route, headed back to Kingsley, through the Adirondack Park. He crossed the road, right in front of my highbeams… I was already studying biology at that point, very invested in a myriad of subspecialties. I was alarmed, intrigued, fascinated… it wasn’t anything like I’d seen before, or have seen since.”

Rage filled her chest, slamming against the hurt already welling. “If that thing is back home, why come here? To the most random...” She stopped, unwilling to finish her sentence, unsure of what satisfaction it would offer. What could she say?

Do you have any idea how small and remote Ashland, Alaska is? Did you personally pick the spot furthest away from us? Did you really hate us that much?

"We all run, Aly."

“Clearly, it was not far enough,” Aly replied, despising the weakness in her voice.

Fidgeting, he brushed off her comment. “Alyson, no matter how difficult this seems… it’s irrelevant to the issue at hand. I’d appreciate if you could stay focused for one minute.” His voice was on edge, filled with a sudden impatience. “The fact of the matter is that your behavior, recently, in general, it’s been unacceptable. You were perfectly well-behaved until you were involved with Lee Locklear’s son, and now you’ve not only disrespected me, but you’ve lost a lot of credit with the local people for the entire corporation. As I’ve said in the past, this is my life’s work. I don’t know if you can understand this, but our relationships, even interpersonal, with the elders of this area are extremely valuable. Very rarely is any information shared. Now they’re practically up in arms, because of you. I frankly have to ask you to reconsider your current arrangements and associations–”

You have got to be kidding me.

Suppressing a hurricane of rage, Aly took a deep breath. Sounding exasperated, she interjected, “Greg, I am not going to stop seeing Noah.”

He deadpanned, his expression twisting into bewilderment. He looked as though she spoke in an extraterrestrial language and grew a third eye. “You’re what?”

“Not for you, and especially not for your job. No offense.” Aly continued, ignoring him. “I’m not interested in playing games or making face. I’ve seen that thing twice with documentation, heard it a third time, and to tell you the truth, your people suck, especially when it comes to investigation. I mean, Rowley’s cool-”

“The intern?”

“Inevitably and uncompromising,” Aly finished, “the answer is no. Take it for what it is.”

A red line curled down his forehead, his neck taut with veins. He spat, "Do you think you love him?"

Her jaw set. She straightened her shoulders, challenging, "What if I did?"

"You've only known him for a weekend!"

Five days. Five days was enough to change everything. "Then why did you ask?" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Greg? I can't tell if you’re really that manipulative or just stupid. You can't ask the unanswerable and expect me to marvel in your greatness. I'm not a child anymore; I don't revere the ghost of my father to anything or anyone."

"I'm manipulative? What about this entire feat you’re pulling?"

She groaned, covering her face with the hand that wasn't cradling her coffee.

"That's it then, isn't it? It's a hoax." He blew a raspberry, slumping in the seat at her side.

She tucked a curl behind her ear. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knee, switching the Styrofoam cup to another hand.

"I'm going to say this slowly, so you can understand me, for the last time. It is not a hoax, it is evidence that you can choose to utilize or disregard, and at this point, I don't care. All I care about is the boy on the table, in the room with the real doctors."

He swallowed. An Adam's apple bobbed in his skinny neck. "You have my full attention, and that's all you have to say to me?"

She threw a hand up, pointedly staring at the ceiling as though it could offer sympathy. "I really don't know what you expect me to say. I don't know what you want me to feel, or do. I have no freaking idea what you want from me. I tried. Now it doesn’t matter, and I'm going to be okay with that, even if it's not today." Voice thick with sarcasm, she finished, "You failed me, and I guess I failed you. Funny, how life works."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"When they told me what you did, and then I heard it, and I saw that thing... I thought for a second, maybe there was something there I'd missed, something I'd given up on a long time ago: a genuine passion for something bigger than us. Finally, a reason you left that wasn't my fault– like maybe it wasn't something I did wrong. It wasn't me. It didn't have to be me."

"Alyson-"

"But I know better than that," she muttered, bitterly. "It was never me. It was you. So forgive me for not being smart enough to forget about you like Mom did. She warned me, a thousand times. I still wanted a father. I thought I needed you. I never did, though. I still don't. I need my mother, or a real father, none of which you could ever be."

"Then what am I, Alyson?" he demanded.

"Gregory Michael Glass," she said softly. "Just the man with cold eyes."

~

“They said it looked like I slammed into a branch or something. The entire situation wasn’t easy… describing. Jacob said he didn’t think I have nerve or tendon damage, but I’ll have to see a fancy specialist in Anchorage.” Noah explained. It was still strange, seeing him gesture with one hand rather than two. While one ran through his hair, the other was bound up in a thick navy sling, the shoulder casted to prevent the joint from sliding. “For the most part, everything’s fine. I’ve got a prescription, and I’m not sure how that’s going to work out. I forgot to ask about driving.”

“Need a chauffeur?” she ribbed, lifting her bag to her knees as she sat on the edge of an untouched bed.

Noah smirked, managing a one-shouldered half-shrug. “Probably. Think you can handle the pickup again?”

She laughed, offering a look of sympathy. “If you can handle getting that thing reset, I’m sure I can handle an automatic.”

He nodded, stepping forward to grab her hand, pulling her to her feet. He said, “I’m sorry about today. About everything.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for – although you can request a formal apology from whatever sorry tree took you down.” Her words were playful, but her tone wavered with an intake of breath. Her heart fluttered, his thumb tracing her lips. He kissed her, sending fire dancing across her skin. Reluctant, she parted, whispering, “I should get your jacket. It’s in the waiting area.” Noah teased, “Don’t go far.”

Aly smiled. “Never.”

Spinning on her heel, she left the room, headed for the lobby. After retrieving his things, she refilled her cup, grabbing another for Noah. On the way back, the sound of yelling traveled through the hall. A bystander in scrubs met her gaze, sharing a baffled, wideeyed expression. The woman quickly looked away, dark crimson pooling in her cheeks at being caught eavesdropping.

Before Aly reached his door, Lee ran out, shaking with anger. Nearly running into her, he stopped, a loathing stare following her toes to her crown. He hissed, “This is your fault.”

Aly blurted, “Excuse me?”

“You belong on the outside, Glass daughter,” Lee warned, “You stay away from my boy.”

As he shoved past her, half-caf sloshed from the cups to the toes of her boots. Mixed emotions welled in her chest, pain and anger swirling. Collecting herself, she prepared to brush it off.

Aly attempted to coax herself into entering the room as though tension wasn’t wafting below the door. Instead, she stood in the hall with coffee-flavored boots, feeling confused and two-inches-tall.

You belong on the outside, Glass daughter.

How dare you, Alyson Mackenzie.

Blinking, Aly peaked through the square block windows in the door. He had a free hand over his face, his good shoulder leaning against the wall. Glancing up with shell-shocked horror, Noah met her stare.

“Well,” she said, “isn’t that something.”