Out of Nowhere, page 3
Maya sighed. This life was not the life she once dreamed about. She once expected she would live a magic life. Well, it had magic, just not the magic Maya once wanted. But then, how could she have known?
She had been an ordinary girl living with normal parents who worked regular jobs until that day when Akotas arrived out of nowhere.
That day, Maya was angry as always at her parents and the boredom of her life. She had gone to her favorite place to ponder how to change her life. Something that would differ from the life that loomed in front of her. She wanted adventure, and that day she was desperate.
The fighting at home was terrible. Her studies at school bored her, and she was considering either dropping out or changing her major at the University to something like Greek Myths and Legends. Perhaps by learning about them, she would look at the world differently and then live a vicariously adventurous life.
However, Maya understood that either choice would upset her parents. She lived at home because they had barely scraped the money together to send her to college. She knew what they would say if she changed her major to something so impractical.
"How can you make money with that kind of education? We haven't worked our entire lives for you to do something that frivolous!"
"Well, why do they have these classes then?" she'd ask her parents. "They must be there for a reason."
"They are for rich people," her father would answer. "People like us don't study just for fun."
The last time she discussed this with her parents, she had hugged them both and thanked them for their advice, even though Maya realized she would not follow it. But she loved them for what they had done for her, and she hated that if she lived life her way, she would hurt their feelings and disappoint them.
But Maya didn't want to live an ordinary life doing ordinary things. She never had. She wanted to be unique and do something meaningful. What that was, Maya didn't know. But she knew she loved being outside and not inside a stuffy classroom with what she considered mindless busy work, everyone listening to someone droning on and on about useless information. She realized her parents believed going to the University would somehow produce a job that paid better money than their factory jobs, but Maya had seen the writing on the wall.
Not only would that not happen for most people in her class, but it definitely would not happen for her. She could never sit or stand in one place for long, let alone have someone tell her what to do. Whatever she did with her life, it was not where her current life was taking her.
That day, when adventure fell out of the sky, she had been more depressed than usual. How could she please her parents and still have a meaningful life?
Now, all these years later, as Maya pulled into the park where she spent her days, she snorted again. At herself this time. Once, a long time ago, she worried about becoming a nobody at a tedious job, and ended up being somebody with a terrifying life. However, Ginny was the result, and that was enough for her. But it wasn't enough for Ginny. Maya needed a way to set Ginny free.
Maya now understood how much her parents had loved her. They gave up their hopes and dreams to give her a better life. She did that now for Ginny. But like Maya, Ginny was not happy. And the entire reason she agreed to Dradon's terms was to make sure Ginny would have a happy, safe, and fulfilling life.
As she always did, Maya hid her car in the far reaches of the lot. She experienced a moment of happiness because it was a beautiful day in which to walk and think. Akotas had always told her she would find answers among the plants and trees. She believed him, but for years there were no answers at all—only a long bleak stretch of living in fear.
Perhaps it would be different today. Perhaps something would happen to change the tragedy of their lives.
As Maya lifted her small backpack out of the car, she noticed the park's groundkeeper on the other side of the parking lot. He had been there for as long as she had been coming to the park.
He never came close enough for them to talk. But he was always there, waiting for her and her car.
Even from a distance, she could see his dark red hair ruffle in the wind. But she knew he saw her better than she saw him. She raised her hand in a wave, and he waved back. She always felt safer knowing he was around.
More than once, she walked toward him to thank him for taking such good care of the park and watching over her. But he would always disappear before she got there. Finally, she realized he wanted to be left alone, so she only waved when she came and went from the park.
She understood the need to be left alone.
Stepping onto the path, her water bottle tucked into her pack, along with a few food bars, Maya headed for the meadow. She always went there. She didn't know what she expected to happen. Just because something happened once did not mean it would happen again. But what if it did? What if history repeated itself? Would it be a good thing or a bad thing?
Maya didn't actually expect anything to happen, and she wasn't sure she wanted it to. What she wanted was an idea that would free her and Ginny. And if not the two of them, at least her daughter.
Observing from the grove of trees, Koda saw Maya shoulder her pack and head towards the path that would lead her to the meadow. He knew why she went there, and he understood what she wanted. He wanted it to happen, too.
He yearned to return home, but he promised Isira and Akotas to watch over Maya since they couldn't. Watching over their family had been his family's' role for generations, and Ginny and Maya were family now, too. Still, if there were a way to return and be with Ceya again, he would do whatever it took to accomplish it. So as Maya prayed for a solution, he prayed too, as he always did.
Perhaps today was the day they both would get an answer.
SEVEN
Because of her first-graders, Ginny loved teaching most of the time. It pleased Ginny that she was the one who introduced them to the pleasures of learning. And because Ginny recognized how it felt to be different, she believed she understood how to help them adjust to days in a classroom and fitting in—but still be themselves. She wanted to show them how to make learning enjoyable for them even when the teaching was terrible, as it would be at least once in their lives. And she wanted to help them apply what they learned to thrive in what could often be a harsh world.
She hoped what she taught them would serve them throughout their school years and into the life that came after. If Ginny could, she would give them all a magic wand that would direct them through the maze of people who didn't see their uniqueness or didn't care. But since she didn't have a magic wand to give them, she wanted her students to have the wisdom and courage to withstand times of hardship. Ginny knew that even now, some of these young children lived lives almost too hard for them to bear.
She looked out over her classroom and thought how each of these children’s lives was a precious gem, and it was her job to discover how to polish it and bring it to life. Every day that the children sat in her classroom, she tried to make life better for them. She brought food to school, tutored after school, and often picked up students who lived in cars and took them out to eat and sometimes to the movies.
She found other parents and teachers who were willing to go out of their way, and they, too, watched over the students. Even the children who looked like they came from a good home with plenty to eat were often suffering because they hid secrets about themselves, believing if people knew, they wouldn't be accepted.
Within this circle of caring parents and teachers, they treasured and nurtured each child. She started the circle three years before when she began teaching full time, and she and the other members continued to check on the welfare of those students as they moved through the grades. Ginny and her circle considered expanding their reach to the other children in the school but worried that they wouldn't understand or even like what they were doing because they had not been Ginny’s students. If they told anyone, the authorities might step in and stop them.
So as much as she wanted to reach out to everyone, Ginny hoped the students she and her circle nurtured would bring awareness and kindness into the world, and that would help bring about a much-needed change.
Ginny knew what it felt like to be different. The kids she grew up with teased her because of her bug eyes, and because her mother looked like a witch, and their house looked haunted. That would have been bad enough, but Ginny also knew something was wrong with her. She never felt as if she belonged anywhere. When she shared the things she thought about, the teachers reported her to the principal, who went to her mother and said they thought Ginny might have a mental disorder.
Seriously, she mused. A mental disorder. But what she remembered most was what happened after the meeting with the principal. As soon as they were safely inside their house, her mother took her hand and, in a rare moment of affection, told Ginny she was right. Some things are not as they seem, and yes, there are other universes, other times, other dimensions, but most everyone didn't know that, and mostly they didn't want to know. And besides, they lived in this one, so it was best to adjust to what they couldn’t change.
Even now, Ginny barely believed that they had that conversation. For a moment in time, her mother was an entirely different woman. A younger one. A woman full of wit and life. And then that woman vanished, and the old, private, withdrawn woman returned.
For many years, Ginny prayed to see that mother again. As she got older, she wondered if perhaps her mother was also not as she appeared to be, and that was what she had been saying, in a roundabout way.
So Ginny hid what she felt, what she thought, and who she wanted to be so she could get through school. And that was why she was now a teacher. Perhaps by knowing each child, she would be at least one person in their life who showed them that who they were was beautiful and unique, and then helped them thrive in such a strange and often cruel world.
Today she was concentrating on the small tow-headed boy who sat at the front of the room. He sat there because she put him there. Tommy hated sitting up front, but if he didn't, he would fall asleep or put his head on his desk to hide. She moved him to the front of the room, hoping it would help her figure out how to help him. He was withdrawn and angry. Nothing she did so far worked, but she hoped the field trip they were going on would bring a smile to his face.
She didn’t want to fail with him as she was failing with her mother. Although Ginny yearned to live a fuller life, she knew she couldn't. Somehow she and her mother were trapped. But she didn't understand how or why, and her mother wouldn’t tell her.
Besides, she knew her mother lied to her for her entire life. Her mother said she had a job. Ginny knew she didn’t, yet somehow there was money. Maya stopped asking her mother where she went to work on the day she followed her instead of going to school. Seeing her mother drive to a park and get out and walk astonished Ginny, but still, she wasn’t too worried. Perhaps her mother was only taking a day off from work.
But Ginny followed Maya repeatedly until she was positive her mother was going to the park every day. For weeks after that, Ginny debated if she should tell her mother she knew she was lying. She wanted to ask her what was going on. But she didn't. Instead, she asked about work and her mother grunted as she often did, which meant something like, “It’s okay and don't bother me.”
That’s when a profound sadness settled into Ginny's heart. Ginny knew she was different, but after that, she recognized that everything about her life was a lie. It took all of her courage every morning to pass on to the children the idea that kindness and wisdom ruled the world, despite appearances, and how to overcome adversity when she couldn't even change her own life. All because of her mother and her secret. It worried Ginny. Perhaps she was wrong about life. Maybe life was a hell and one they could never leave.
Ginny shook her head. Letting herself think those things would never help these children. But the depression was eating away at her, and every day it got harder and harder to find the hope that things could get better.
She looked out over the sea of faces, almost all of them smiling back at her, excited about the field trip, and decided that she could do one more day. For them, if not for herself.
EIGHT
Pax dropped from the tree using a trick he learned from the spider. Holding on to one string of the cloud, he lowered himself silently to the ground. Ceya cracked an eye as Pax dropped past her home in the tree, blinked, and waited to see where he was going. She and Pax had a long history together, and if Pax was going somewhere, she had to go too.
During the night, Pax had struggled to make a decision. He could remain in the woods and pretend he didn't hear Isira calling for him. He could stay alone but safe and relatively happy in the forest. Or he could follow the call that began as a small whisper in his heart but was now a roar in his head.
And as much as he hated to admit it, he understood he could not continue to ignore it. He treasured his independence and his autonomy, but his grandfather told him he had not come into this world to be alone and hide in the woods.
Pax would never forget the day his grandfather told him what his mission would be in this lifetime. They were celebrating his eleventh birthday with a prayer to his mother and his father—the flames from the fire warm and soft, sending sparks of light into the air.
Akotas became quiet after the celebration, and Pax was preparing for bed when his grandfather cleared his throat. Pax sat down again, knowing his grandfather needed to tell him something. But what Akotas told him was not what he had expected.
"You're old enough to learn why you are here, Pax."
Pax wanted him to stop talking. He knew Akotas would tell him he would need to prepare to be a warrior.
Instead, his grandfather told him it was his duty and destiny to keep the peace in their world. That the threat that war would return was real, and Pax would help stop it.
Pax laughed, thinking Akotas was teasing him. His grandfather continued to sit, staring at the fire, the flames now dancing and flaring as if in response to such an absurd statement.
Even at eleven, Pax recognized his lack of ability as a fighter, so how could he stop a war and keep the peace? Years before, when Akotas tried to show him how to fight, Pax had sat on the ground and cried.
That day, Akotas walked away and left him there in the dirt, sobbing. When Akotas didn’t return, Pax climbed the tree and hid away with the clouds. Two days later his grandfather came back, bringing food from the village, and told Pax to come down from the tree.
Pax refused. All he could think about was how his grandfather had left him. He could not trust Akotas again. When Pax remained in the tree, Akotas built a fire and sat before it, eating the food he had brought.
In the morning, when Pax still had not come down from the tree, his grandfather summoned a great wind that pushed Pax out of the branches, sending him crashing to the ground.
Akotas slowed his fall the last few feet, so Pax landed softly on his back, staring up at the tree, which he imagined was bending over and laughing at him for being so useless.
When he didn't move, his grandfather reached his hand down and pulled him up, brushed him off, and handed him a bowl of fruit and a small loaf of bread.
"Eat," he said.
Pax wanted to pout. He wanted to turn around and run away, but he was so hungry he decided to eat first. He kept his head down as he stuffed the food in his mouth. When he finished, he set the bowl down, crossed his arms over his chest, and finally looked up at his grandfather.
Akotas was waiting, his dark brown eyes almost hidden within the folds of his face. A scar ran across his cheek, and as often as Pax asked him how he had gotten it, Akotas always replied, "It came to me when I wasn't looking."
Long moments passed, and Pax felt as if his grandfather was staring deep inside his soul. He made himself sit, telling himself that he was not useless and reminding himself that he had no one but his grandfather.
"I was wrong to walk away, Pax," Akotas said, and then added, "and you were wrong to react that way."
Pax closed in on himself, hugging his knees. All he heard was he was wrong to react that way. It wasn't until his grandfather said nothing more that he replayed what he heard and realized his grandfather said he was wrong, too.
Pax had nodded, and when his grandfather came to sit beside him, he leaned into him and sobbed. Akotas waited and when the sobbing stopped, Pax still felt afraid and still doubted, but something inside of him had strengthened. If his grandfather believed that about him, he was willing to admit that perhaps it was possible.
After that, his grandfather trained Pax differently. He told Pax he no longer expected him to be a warrior. There were other ways to lead and other ways to change the world. He no longer looked away when Pax closed in on himself and tried to disappear. Instead, Akotas demanded that Pax come out of himself and let himself be seen.
When Pax would fold his arms in defiance, Akotas would give him a more challenging task to do. In time, Pax saw what Akotas was doing. He was accepting Pax as he was while demanding that he be more.
Wrapped in his cloud that night as he tried to decide what to do, Pax felt his grandfather's finger poking him in the chest the way he did before he left for good.
"I am in here, Pax. I will always be in here. You have a warrior's heart. You must do what you came here to do."
That morning, Pax had decided it was time to go out into the world and do what he came to do. Pax took his time preparing for the journey, knowing it might be the last time he would see these woods. It was no longer about what he wanted or how he wanted to live his life. It was time to do what needed to be done. Whether or not he wanted to was not the point. It was what he had to do.
He would go to Isira. He heard her calling. It was time to find out what she wanted.
Pax ducked into the large opening at the base of the tree and pulled out the woven bag his grandfather had left him. He had no possessions other than the bag. The forest was his home, and it had given him all that he needed. But Pax didn't want to leave the bag since Akotas gave it to him. Slipping it onto his back, something clunked against his spine.
