Relics (2 page)

“No,” Nana said as she shook her head. “She might as well hear it now.”

Brown sat back down, taking a deep breath. His voice was firm, but quiet. “Mrs. Roberts, Fiona, there was an accident on the freeway. The rain made the road slick. One of the plastic barrels at an off-ramp lost enough of its weight somehow that the wind picked it up and blew it onto the freeway. The safety barrel got caught in one of the wheels of a gas tanker. The driver lost control, and his rig jack-knifed across the lanes of traffic. When a panel truck hit the trailer, it exploded, even though it was nearly empty. The smoke and debris formed a wall that the other cars simply couldn't avoid.” He stopped, looking down at the folder.

“How many?” prompted Nana.

Brown paused. “As near as we can tell right now, there were twenty-seven vehicles involved.” His horror was palpable as he set the folder on the table.

“Oh, dear god,” breathed Nana.

Green picked up the folder. “Your daughter's car was in the last wave that hit. We identified most of the vehicles from their license plates, once we had the fire under control. We're still recovering the victims. It all happened very quickly, according to our witnesses.” She paused and held Nana’s gaze.  “We are very, very sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do for you?”

Nana continued to hold on tight to me. “Is it possible to call a cab for us?”

Green spoke up, “That won't be necessary, ma'am. We'll drive you home.”

That night, the house had lost the feeling of home already. I had just crawled into bed when the realization hit me, and it hit me hard: I was never going to see my parents again. I covered my mouth with my hands to hold in the wail that wanted to tear screaming from my throat. My door flew open, and Nana was there.

My body was shaking from the huge sobs that broke as she gathered me in her arms and held me tight. I could feel her sobs as we mourned together. I have no idea how long it lasted, but we finally cried ourselves out.

Nana pulled my blankets and pillows from the bed, and we took them into the family room. She brought in more pillows and blankets, and we made a nest on the large sofa, sipping hot chocolate.

I was curled up and drifting off to sleep, when I felt a familiar touch brush my forehead and hair. Mom had done that when I was a little kid. For a moment or two, I even thought it was my mom. I half opened my eyes to see Nana looking into the distance with an unreadable expression. The thought that she had once stroked my mom's hair, just as Mom had mine, followed me into a deep sleep.

The rest of that time is blurry to me now. Bits and pieces are clear, but the mind has its own way of coping with trauma. We had a memorial service, cremation for what was recovered of my parents' bodies. I remember a lot of people were there. My parents' clients, my teachers and friends from school, even a few of the carnies showed up.

Afterward, Nana had me start packing things up. My parents had left precise instructions, true to their little accountant hearts. Nana put the house on the market to sell, with the money from the sale going into a trust for me. I didn't go back to school. I was kept busy packing up the things I would be taking with me.

Nana and I made a trip to the carnival. She packed up the stuff she wanted and had it shipped. She made arrangements to sell her RV. I wanted to stay there with the carnival. The people were nice and warm and felt like family.

Nana said no, that it was time she stopped hiding out and rejoined the world. She'd already made arrangements for us to move to San Francisco. She owned half of a Bed & Breakfast in one of the Victorians, and we would stay there until she found more permanent housing for us.

Once in San Francisco, it seemed like no time at all before we were out of the B&B and into a spacious condo in a nice and quiet neighborhood. Nana had gotten a part time job at the local library and registered me in sixth grade for the fall.

That summer was a time of change. Nana and I were working out how we fit together. The numbness began to ease somewhat over that summer, but I don't think I was ever really a child after that. My natural, happy nature was subdued. I often sat and stared at nothing from our living room window.

Nana wanted me to go out and play with the other kids, but I just didn’t feel like it. The thought that I’d have to answer questions as the new kid and tell them my parents died made my throat close up. So, instead, I read a lot, watched movies, and best of all, I discovered gaming. I was able to disappear into each of those worlds for hours on end. Games kept me company a lot during that time. I stared at the TV, playing as time crept by.

Nana and I discussed the visits from my parents after they died and everything that seeing them might mean. Since she and I both had abilities most people didn't, she made it clear we needed to keep that fact to ourselves for our own protection.

Nana's ability was empathy. She knew what people were feeling. That was why she had done her tarot and crystal ball act back in the carnival. Mostly she dealt with the living, but now and then one of the dead would find her and she was able to sense them. In the case of my parents, her tie with Mom was so close she was actually able to see and hear her.

Nana told me about an old friend of hers who was a telepath and psychic.

“This was years ago, when I was in my twenties. My friend didn't make a secret of what he could do and often consulted with police. He didn't get a lot of attention in the papers or anything like some do, but he was pretty consistent with his results. One day, he disappeared. I have no idea where he went. He was just gone. But I'm telling you, Fi, I knew he was alive. I could feel his emotions - his pain, his fear.” She paused, looking into the distance as she sometimes did. “I still do.”

A chill ran through me as she looked straight into my eyes. “Maybe I'm a foolish old woman, but since I don't feel old, I'm going to say I'm not. But we are only safe if we keep our abilities to ourselves, Fiona.”

It was a lesson I'd never forget.

The first day of school was typical of any middle school. Kids got together and compared notes from the summer. Kids tried to find classrooms. I already had my class schedule and books from when we came to register, so I was good on that score.

Nana made sure I was there early enough to chat with the other kids, but chatting was the last thing on my mind. I was looking forward to learning, but not the socializing. The effort involved in getting to know new people was just too much.

I made my way to my classroom and sat in the last seat of the far row, where I could look out a window. It was a bright room, a typical classroom with maps, charts, and art from past years. My teacher was Mrs. Allen. She came in shortly after I did, giving me a look of surprise before following it up with a smile.

“I bet you are Fiona Bartlett.”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said politely.

She looked around the empty seats, and I could see her noting my choice. Maybe she thought about telling me to move, but she didn't.

“I'm Mrs. Allen. You probably knew that. We've still got quite a while before class begins. Did you need my help with anything?”

I shook my head.

“Well, I'm going to get in one more cup of coffee before class.” She paused at the door. “Fiona, please, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

I gave her a polite smile. “Yes, Mrs. Allen.”

The door shut behind her, and I looked out the window. My fake smile quickly disappeared.

It was only a few minutes later when the door opened again. A boy stuck his head in. When he saw me, his face lit up.

“There you are!  I'm so glad you're not in first grade! That would have been – not good.” He never stopped talking, until he got back to me. He looked at the desk across from me and the one in front of me. He chose the one across from me and set his book bag on the seat.

“Okay, don't let anyone else sit there. I need to go to the office to transfer from Mr. Daniels' class. I'm really glad I found you.” He was already moving toward the door, walking backwards and glancing behind as he went. I didn't know what to make of him at all.

“Oh, I'm Erik Thulukan, but everyone calls me Thulu.” He gave me the warmest, biggest grin I'd ever seen, with dimples. It was like he had just won a big contest or something. I couldn't help but smile back.

“Oh good, you found it!” he said from the doorway.

“Found what?”

“Your smile.” And as suddenly as he had appeared, the mass of energy masquerading as a boy was out the door. A tightness deep inside me opened up and released.

He solved some of the mystery at recess. Thulu was a finder. He could find anyone or anything. He told me he woke that morning and knew he needed to find someone very important. He said he hadn't known why, but the moment he saw me he knew he'd found the right person.

I didn't ask him what I was right for, though. Somehow, I didn't need to. We knew we belonged together; it was that simple. It was a level of comfort that I don't think we truly understood, but being kids we simply accepted it.

I didn’t know how he was able to pull off his class transfer either, but he did. I asked him later, and he said he asked if he could and they said yes. I doubted it had been quite that simple, and he eventually admitted that he used every trick in his not-so-inconsiderable bag of tricks to pull it off.

Thulu had thick brown hair with streaks of blonde from the sun. His eyes were a soft, warm brown with gold flecks in them. In some lights, they almost looked gold. His face was open and friendly, with even features and those deep dimples. He was tall and thin and carried himself with a grace and confidence beyond his years. Teachers adored him because he was smart, well-behaved and charming. Kids liked him because he was kind and helpful. Bullies stayed away from him because he practiced Karate and was not shy about giving them personal demonstrations.

When Nana came to walk me home that first day, I was almost skipping down the stairs and out to the sidewalk, with Thulu right alongside me.

I gave Nana a big hug and a bigger smile. She looked at me with a shocked expression, which she quickly smothered under her own smile.

“Nana, this is Thulu. He finds things.”

Seeming nonplussed, Nana gave Thulu a smile and said, “Nice to meet you, Thulu. Interesting name.”

“I'm really Erik Thulukan, but everyone calls me Thulu.” He glanced around. “There's my dad. Hey, come over and meet him.”

He danced backwards, and we went with him as he turned to go to a pleasant looking man. The man had Thulu's brown hair and sparkling eyes, and you could see the genes had run strong from father to son.

“Hey, Dad, this is Fiona and her grandmother, Mrs. –”

“Fae Roberts,” filled in Nana with a smile.

“Hi, I'm Erik Thulukan, the Middle.” Nana raised her eyebrows questioningly as they shook hands. “My dad and son are both Eriks,” he explained. “Nice to meet you.” He had Thulu's smile too, with straight, white teeth and dimples. He turned to Thulu. “So, a good first day back?”

Thulu smiled at me. “It was the best day back ever.”

The adults sensed something special was up. They exchanged looks, a measuring up of each other. I think they liked what they saw because both gave a nod of acknowledgment.

“Well, son, we need to get moving. Mrs. Roberts, it was a pleasure meeting you. I guess it won't be the last time, either.”

“Yes, I expect so, Mr. Thulukan.”

“Erik, please.” He and Thulu turned to walk away.

Nana's face was relaxed for the first time in a long time as we turned back toward our condo.

Shortly after I met Thulu, it became obvious that my sighting of my parents was only the first of many contacts with the dead. Something had opened up, and I was more aware of ghostly presences hovering in the background. It took some getting used to. Thulu had it easier and was already comfortable with his ability. He said he'd had it as long as he could remember.

Between him and Nana, they made what we could do feel almost normal. I was able to adjust to my new-found ability without visiting Freakout City. The dead and other supernatural entities usually didn't bother us much back then. As kids, they probably sensed there wasn't much we could do for them. Sometimes, though, they’d show up and ask us to deliver a message or find something. When we needed to find things, I passed it on to Thulu. Surprisingly, he could also see the dead, but couldn't hear them.  He'd never interacted with them before he met me, though. We handled the jobs easily and fairly quickly.

It wasn't long before Nana and I were absorbed into Thulu's family, which was enormous. He had two older twin sisters and an older brother. His parents teased him, calling him their afterthought, since he was six years younger than his older brother, Drew. You could tell they adored him, though. His twin sisters, Becca and Jude, were nine years older than Thulu. Both of his parents had two siblings each, and with their kids and the grandparents, family get-togethers were chaotic, noisy and fun.

His sisters looked like their mom, Deb, a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She kept things in order. His brother, Drew, also looked like Deb. Only Thulu looked like Erik. This brought forth a lot of good-natured teasing about mailmen and such.

It was such a change from our small family. Dad and Mom were both only-children, and Dad's parents had died before I was born. Nana had divorced her husband when my mom was young, so he was out of the picture, too.

The Thulukan clan made our healing process move a lot faster, since we were accepted into their midst with warmth and love and without question. They had so much in terms of genuine caring that bringing in another two people was easy for them. I saw it happen with other relationships that moved in and out of the family, like the various boyfriends and girlfriends who came and went for the younger family members.

Our first family experience was our birthdays. Mine was in October, and Thulu's was more than a whole month behind mine. A fact I didn't let him forget. We decided we wanted to celebrate both birthdays on one day in the middle of the two dates. While our eleventh birthday was the first, we never stopped the practice of a combined birthday party on the first Saturday in November.

It was the first time Nana and I met the rest of their family. We had burgers, hotdogs, fries, salads, cake and ice cream. There were balloons and decorations everywhere and lots of presents. Most were silly little things that were more special because of that. It was one of those perfect days where everything goes right. And it was just the first of many.

By Thanksgiving, Nana and I were completely Thulukanized. I think Nana was a bit relieved to have other adults in her life. She became especially close to the other grandmothers, Tara, Erik's mother, and Bette, Deb's mom. I think they helped her in ways that, as a child, I couldn't.

The three of them became Nana Fae, Nana Tara and Nana Bette.  Nana Tara was married to the oldest Erik Thulukan, but Nana Bette was divorced. A word or look from one of the Nanas was enough to curb any “rambunctiousness” that got out of hand.

Thulu saved me from a lot of pain. He loved video games, too, and joined me in wandering through virtual worlds. But he also pulled me out of the shell I'd gone into. He and his noisy cousins kept me busy in the real world. That first year, we were so full of living life that there were times I was breathless from it all. We even had that occasional job for the dead. I still grieved underneath, especially in the quiet times before I fell asleep. But the pain and loss were not as sharp as before. As always, time healed over some of it.

I also became close to Thulu's cousin, Ally. She was two years older than us, but she was fascinated with the supernatural. I think initially I was a project, but as we got to know each other, she became my closest friend, aside from Thulu.

In addition to her interest in the supernatural, she also collected strays. You could always count on Ally to have some kitten or puppy that needed a home. Her fondest wish was to become a vet, something everyone in the family encouraged.

I was amazed at how Thulu's gift for finding things was taken for granted in the family. If something had gone missing, no one thought twice about asking him. He was almost always able to tell them where it was.

There was one barbeque where the Nanas sat everyone down in the living room. It was raining and we were all inside that day. It was the spring after Nana Fae and I had first met the Thulukans. By then, we'd been firmly entrenched as part of the family.

The Nanas talked about gifts. They talked about Ben, one of the older cousins, who played guitar and had a gift for music. He'd just cut a record with his band and found moderate success.

Becca and Jude had the twin's gift for almost reading each other’s minds. Ally had a gift for working with animals. Ally's older brother, Evan, was great at math.

They managed to find something special about every kid. Thulu and I were sprinkled in with the others, somewhere in the middle. Nothing special, just two more kids with gifts. Everyone nodded when Nana Tara said, “Thulu finds things.” It was easy to accept him with his “knack.”

“Fiona is a translator. She sees and speaks with those the rest of us can't,” said Nana Fae.

“She sees ghosts,” one of the cousins said. There was a delighted shiver that ran around the room as everyone agreed that's what I could do.

“I think I'll stick with playing the guitar,” said Ben, leaning over to muss up my hair.

Everyone laughed, and Nana Fae said, “Yes, Fiona translates for the dead and for other supernatural beings, too. She also understands other languages.” A recent visit to Chinatown had revealed that ability. It was the first time I was described as a translator, though. I rather liked it.

The Nanas went on to some of the others. At the end, they told us that everyone had gifts and we had to explore and discover and nurture our gifts. They talked a lot about dreams for the future. They told us to not be afraid to go after our dreams. They also said that the Nanas were there for anyone who ever needed to talk.

As simple as that, Thulu and I had been normalized. By pointing out that everyone could do something special, we were included with the rest. The family made sure Thulu and I were not set apart. Normalizing us was probably a way to protect us, as well. If we weren't special, there wasn't much reason for any of the others to discuss what we could do outside the family.

I always thought of that talk as the “dream” talk, as in go after your dreams. It stuck with me because I didn't have any dreams at that point.

That was also the day I heard about Thulu's first “finding.” Ally requested the story, adding, “Besides, Fi hasn't heard it yet.”

The Nanas exchanged looks. Nana Bette held out her wine glass to Ben for a refill. He went off to the kitchen and returned quickly with a full glass. She sipped before starting.

“An old friend of mine from school was visiting. Gina and I had been chorus girls together in Las Vegas before she married a wealthy businessman and moved to Chicago. We still kept in touch at the holidays, and she came to visit every year. One year, when he was three, Thulu happened to be over during her visit.” She paused for another sip of wine.

“He was playing on the floor with his cars and trucks while we caught up on the latest news. Gina was saying that she lost her diamond engagement ring right before she was to leave for the airport. She'd looked frantically for it in the small time she had before she left, but she couldn't find it. She was very upset about losing it, but was making the best of it.” Another sip.

“Then, without looking up, Thulu spoke up and said, 'It's not lost. That ring. It's in some ugly red boot in your closet.'  I laughed and looked over at Gina, who was staring at Thulu.  She asked him how he knew she had red boots. Thulu just gave a little shrug, still playing with his trucks and still not looking up. 'Cause that's where your ring is.'” Two sips of wine.

“Well, she called home and had someone look in her closet, although she denied her boots were ugly and insisted they were quite stylish. I doubt she would have called, except we wondered how Thulu had known she had red boots.” Sip.

“We were both shocked when the ring was there. Gina was so grateful that she wrote out a big fat check for Thulu's college fund. She insisted that she would have gladly paid that much as a reward and insisted it was his 'Finder's Fee.'”

“How much, Nana?” asked Ally. “Say how much.”

Nana Bette looked around at us as she took several small sips, “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

We were all suitably impressed by such a fortune.

“Well,” added Nana Bette, eyes sparkling, “she was enormously rich.”

Thulu and I talked later that day, and that's when I found out he wanted to be a P.I. He thought he'd be good at helping people. I think he imagined himself as some character on a TV show. While our plans evolved as we grew older, that one rainy day saw the glimmerings of The Thulukan Agency.

One thing I mentioned early on to Thulu was about staying under the radar and out of sight of the “authorities.” I shared the story Nana had told me about her friend's disappearance, and we eventually decided to work with the supernatural. It wasn't like the ghosts had a lot of options, so we'd be filling a void, and we figured they'd be less conspicuous. Besides, it was a natural outgrowth of what we already did on a small scale.

When Thulu was in “Finder Mode,” he would close his eyes in concentration and get this stillness about him that seemed like the eye of a storm. Energy would pulse around him. It could last anywhere from a few seconds to several minutes. Usually it was over so quickly that I couldn’t tell if others sensed that energy. I asked Nana once and she said she could feel it, too, but Ally only shook her head when I described it.

Life went on and was pretty normal considering the ghosts and such. When we were thirteen, Ally brought home one of her people strays. The girl, Lynda-Jean, was fifteen, the same age as Ally. They met in P.E. class, where Linda-Jean's plumpness and clumsiness made her unpopular.

She preferred to be called LJ, but I called her by her full name. I took a perverse pleasure in her flashes of irritation when I called her that. There was just something about the girl I instantly disliked. I didn't know what it was, just that I sensed an inner “wrongness” about her. Thulu also sensed something. He gave me a look the first time she showed up, and on some level we both knew we didn't like her.

To be fair, she never said or did anything that was less than friendly, either to me or anyone else. She was always polite and laughed easily. The rest of the family seemed to like her well enough. I did my best to bury my feelings, since Ally seemed to really like her and I adored Ally. I never completely succeeded in burying my distrust, although with her continued inclusion into our family, I grew used to her and was able to get along with her. I never stopped calling her Linda-Jean, though.

That was around this same time that I became La Fi. I had volunteered to do a special kind of teriyaki burger for one of the family weekend barbeques. Blending some spices and other secret ingredients, I presented the marinated burgers to Erik, who was Grill King that weekend. I promptly named them “Burgers à la Fiona,” which became “Burgers à la
Fi.” They were a big hit, by the way, and I frequently got requests for them and for my other creations as time went by. I always thought it was funny that I got named after food, but La Fi seemed to stick with the family.

It seemed like no time at all before Thulu and I were in high school. Always together in the same classes, we were inseparable. I'm not sure why, but we never argued. We didn't always agree on everything, but it never blew into arguments. When we found something we disagreed on, we talked it out until we came to a consensus. We had a strong respect for each other as people, even as kids. That just grew stronger as we got older.

All of the angst and drama that was present in so many of our classmates' lives— it just wasn't there for us. We already had our plan for after college, and that plan was our agency. We were on a mission and knew where we wanted to go with our lives.