Maybe I didn’t want to know.
Once, as she collected another stack of gloon fruit, Dad took a moment to lean on his scythe, push up the brim of his hat with his thumb, and said:
“I don’t know where you found her—I don’t even know what species she is—but she’s a damn fine woman. I hope you make the most of her and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Trust me, I have no intention of doing anything stupid, Da— Uh… Dat’s for sure!”
Oops.
Where Mom seemed to know a great deal about the situation, Dad never seemed to notice anything.
“And unless I’m very much mistaken, I think she likes you too,” Dad said.
“You think?”
Dad winked.
“I don’t think. I know.”
I grinned at him and quickly looked away.
I was so young when I was taken from my parents that I couldn’t even begin to imagine moments like this with them.
When you’re taken as a child, your concept of family life is like that of a child.
For the longest time, I cried myself to sleep dreaming of home and one day being together again.
But as the years ticked by, the tears turned dry and the hope I’d fostered shriveled up and died.
As Shadow recruits, we were taught to let everything about our pasts go, to let the Shadow Realm and everything it symbolized take over our hearts.
And I did.
Little by little, I released my parents from the bondage of my memories and set them free.
I locked myself deeper inside myself with no hope of ever escaping.
I would have lost every part of myself like the other Shadows, recruited or naturally born, if it wasn’t for a single item I carried with me at all times.
I tapped my front pocket where I kept the crushed rose.
It was the one thing I couldn’t release, the one thing I couldn’t let go.
It wasn’t just a memory, though it was attached to one.
A memento that prodded my memory each time I felt my sanity slide just a little further from reach.
That single flower kept me grounded and reminded me of who I was and where I came from.
That simple act of kindness, that simple memory sat around the kitchen dining table.
The memory was worn and ragged and it was sometimes a struggle to keep everything in line, the main characters losing their features and lost to the sands of time.
I always felt there was something important about it, about the girl that’d given me the flower.
I knew deep in my gut I would see her again.
One day.
And it happened that day on Earth in the coffee shop.
I saw her, though I didn’t immediately recognize her.
I felt a tingling sensation, something that began in my chest and tugged me in her direction.
The bond.
That was what drew us together and kept us close.
Close.
Like my family was close now.
It was then that it struck me.
The throbbing warmth inside.
It wasn’t just the throb of the bond pulsing in my chest.
It wasn’t only Ava I felt residing in my chest.
It was my family.
My mother, my father, and even the little version of myself.
This was what love felt like.
This was love.
And it was more powerful than I could imagine.
We weren’t supposed to have the ability to sense it as Shadows.
We were meant to be hollowed out shells.
Not bursting with light like this.
I blocked it from my mind and focused on the work at hand.
By the time we were done with the fieldwork, we were already exhausted.
I was surprised my father managed to keep up with me.
He was much older and beginning to show his age.
But I supposed he was used to the movements and did them in a much more efficient manner than I did.
What was even more surprising was the fact he looked a lot less tired than I did.
“How about we grab some dinner?” he said.
We ate and this time it was a much more relaxed affair than the one that morning.
Ava glanced at my family and then looked away again as if trying to catch them out.
She still thought they were a part of our imaginations and couldn’t bring herself to believe we had actually traveled back in time.
Once we were done with our meal, I was afraid my father would request to turn in for the night but he was nothing if not a man of his word and we headed over to the barn as darkness began to creep in.
He was surprised when he put his hands on the engine.
“Must be top of the line,” he said wondrously.
More than top of the line.
It was technology from the future.
I kept him away from the more ground-breaking elements of the craft and kept his attention focused on the thrusters.
There hadn’t been any major developments in the past ten years or so and I hoped he wouldn’t notice anything surprising that might give the game away.
We worked late into the night and I was surprised by how much Yoath knew about the mechanics of modern machinery.
Far more than a farmer should.
“You sure know your way around an engine,” I said, gently probing him for information.
“I ought to, considering I spent fifteen years as an army mechanic.”
“You did?”
“Sure. I’m not a bad pilot but some of the boys were better at flying, so I decided to let them at it. I preferred the feel of metal tools and oil on my hands anyway.”
I never knew that about him.
Then again, I supposed as a five-year-old boy, that wasn’t very surprising.
He extended a hand to me and I gave him a tool.
“What else did you do when you were a younger man?” I asked.
I wasn’t supposed to be interested in such things.
Curiosity was meant to have been trained out of me but I couldn’t help it.
He was my father, I knew so little about him.
I wouldn’t get another chance to ask him these questions.
“I lived on Qyah’an’ka,” he said, focusing most of his attention on the job as he loosening a panel. “I got itchy feet from a young age and never wanted to stay in one place for
