What Was it Like?

Thoughtfully, I considered what to say. There were so many ways I felt, endlessly strange sensations, all of which were relevant to my own experience, but might mean nothing to Rachel.

"It was painful," I answered.

"Yes? What else?" She was sincerely interested and not with judgment or as though I were a lab animal. I think she simply liked science. 

"I could 'visually hear' sometimes if that makes sense,"

"Please explain."

"Part of me could listen and follow someone while my body remained in a different place. I got visual feedback from their voices."

"Interesting!" she exclaimed. I smiled at her.

"Were you safe when it happened?"

"Yes, I was off base."

"So, you never had any danger of being infected?"

"No. But part of me wanted to know what it was like hence, I'm asking you." She waved her hand, palm up, at me.

"I was curious too. I thought Noirs were all just mindless creatures once they turned but no."

"That's very intriguing," she said. For a moment we stared at the collection of water sagging the awning down just over our heads. I hoped it wouldn't drop. "So, I know that Bram can teleport. Do you have any kind of power?" Rachel asked. I felt bad knowing I was about to let her down. Her upwardly raised eyebrows and clasp of her hands were clearly indicative of her curiosity and hope. 

"No. Not so far anyway," I said. I could see the disappointment in her face as her mouth dropped down from a smile and her brows furrowed. "But I'm supposed to. Maybe you'll be able to see it happen for the first time." 

"That would be awesome!"

The car drove up for us and we all got in with Rachel next to me and Bram next to Len. From the get-go Bram was concerned with the driver's identity. We couldn't see through the one-way tinted shade between us so visual identification was out. 

I watched as Bram kept turning around and knocking on the divider.

"Bram, what do you need from him?" Len asked.

"I need to know who is driving. You don't understand the kind of family I have."

"I think I have an inkling especially since you told me to make sure your father was never allowed near you. I'm sure that's my prime directive."

"Right," Bram said running his hands over his forehead. I thought I saw him shaking.

"What is the harm in Bram knowing who's driving?" I asked Len. Len shrugged and then tapped the window. The driver rolled it down.

"Yes?" the driver asked.

"Just wanted to introduce you. Protocol you see." Len said.

"Oh, I'm friends with Rhys—" the chauffeur began. 

"Does that mean that you are friends with Rusty?" Bram asked, his jaw clenched.

"Are you kidding? He'd never hire me if I were a Rusty fan. Rhys hates his father. Don't you all?"

"Just tell me your name," Bram demanded.

"Fine. My name is Jacob Nelson. I work in this area of Colorado for Rhys. If he brings in guests or if he comes into town and wants a ride, it is me who takes care of it." Jacob glanced at Bram in the rear-view mirror. His amber eyes conveyed confidence. Bram, who had been leaning into the midway mark between our section and the front seats, relaxed.

"Sorry," Bram said. "Thanks."

"It's no problem," Jacob said and then rolled this window back up. Len glanced at Bram, his soaked salt and pepper hair appearing like a Cesar cut from the rain.

"Are you satisfied?" Len asked. Bram nodded.

"If you knew Rusty ... " Bram trailed off, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Len smiled and playfully patted Bram on the back. Bram sat up and gave Len a tiny smile. That was a rarity for anyone to receive from Bram, especially this early in a friendship.

As we continued driving, I asked Rachel where we were going.

"We're heading back to the airport. We're hoping to finish what we started."

"In this?" I asked, pointing out the windows at the rain.

"The rapidity of the storm was what threw us off last time. If we know we're flying into a storm, we can prepare better."

"But what about the hotel collapsing? Won't we need to get questioned by police?"

"It is important that we get to Bram's brother as soon as possible," Rachel said, throwing on her sunglasses again.

Once we were at the airport, we hustled our way over to the plane. Len and Rachel told us to get in while they performed the pre-flight check list. After Bram and I were alone, I wanted to ask him what he thought about the urgency there was to get to Rhys, but I was afraid. Thinking about Rusty triggered him sometimes.

As he was moving his feet, fidgeting, I could see that he was trying to do breathing exercises. Bram was certainly a man of mystery to me. He knew methods on how to calm down after having a panic attack. When did he learn that?

I watched him breathe in more rhythmically and then exhale. His eyes were closed and now he was sitting more firmly in the seat. After a few minutes, it was amazing to see his shaky hands become steadier. Perhaps he had learned these methods when I was in a coma.

He finished, was still for a few seconds, then opened his eyes. His face was more relaxed. When he saw me looking at him, he turned more fully to me.

"What?"

"I'm impressed that you knew how to do that," I said.

"I had to learn it. Too many triggers."

"Oh, right. Well, I'm sorry you have to go through that but it's great that you have a way to cope with it."

"Thanks," he said. "I think that's what I'm supposed to say. I should thank you after you say nice things, right?" he asked, playfully. I punched him.

We were laughing as Len and Rachel loaded into the front seats. Len opened the cockpit and gave us a thumbs up. We returned it.

Bram and I looked at the floor. Our peanuts had been cleaned up. We were both thinking the same thing and when we locked eyes, we began to laugh.

"I wonder what they thought," I asked.

"They've seen worse, I'm sure."

"But the scenarios they imagined could at least be comical like maybe they pictured someone getting up and falling because of turbulence."

"Yeah, or somebody had too much scotch and missed their mouth," Bram added. I smiled at him and pointed.

"Good one. Is that from experience?"

"Maybe."

As the propeller began to spin, we buckled up and sat closely together. It was comforting--in every meaning of the word--to have him by my side. In the past three days, we had spent more time in one another's personal bubbles than we had in three years. I glanced at Bram affectionately as he put headphones on.

Once we were in the air, I began to imagine what Rhys looked like, what I was going to say when I met him, and what he was going to think about me. Having Bram with me was great for support but we were still growing as a couple. Sometimes family dynamics were complicated. 

My mind roamed back to the tragedy I just witnessed and that we were a part of. I could have been killed if Bram didn't have his power. I suppose that took some of the terror out for me, but the experience wasn't completely benign. Pondering the words, 'we were a part of a tragedy' helped me realize something. 

Bram wasn't only triggered by Rusty. It was everything with the war he'd been in, Rusty, Nimble, and today the collapsing hotel. If that were me, I'd feel like I was caving in. 

I glanced at him hoping to see him tranquil in his seat.  Judging by the expression on his face, I wasn't sure if he was feeling good or bad. With him, sometimes being stable was the best it could get. At least he wasn't in a state of panic anymore. 

I glanced out the tiny rain doused windows and silently said goodbye to Colorado. I had hoped to stay longer and check out the area. My dad and I had moved around so much, yet I never explored. So much of where we were was about where we were going next and most of the time it was about surviving, surely not enjoying a leisurely visit. 

After mom died for a few years, outright theft was his grand plan and about as thought out as it sounded. He'd try to slip someone's wallet from them while they were completely focused on a roulette table or he'd find inebriated older women at the slot machines and swipe their billfolds. 

At first, my dad's strategies for money started with point A and ended on point B. They were linear, not methodical, and lacked imagination. That wasn't how all his plans eventually became, but his life of crime was just beginning. I only needed to wait for him to get better at being a criminal. 

Of course, it worked for a while until it didn't. When he was caught, he went to jail, and I was taken home by the police. Luckily, my dad had a way with women and could always find someone to look over me when he was caught up in his whirlwind schemes. The time he got caught with a woman's purse was when Tammy—a staff person at the current hotel—was able to watch me at her house. 

While my dad got caught stealing, it was only twice out of about fifty times. To him, he was a success with theft, which emboldened him to take his hustling to new heights. Just like every hopeful gambler with big dreams, he thought he'd give counting cards a go. I remember there were books strewn across the dark brown hotel floor in Reno. Each had different methods to beat the house, in fact, one of the books was entitled, "How to Beat the House." 

Whenever he was trying something new, he got me involved. We'd buy decks of cards with naked women, racecar drivers, or just the basics on them, and we'd play over and over until he was winning against me. I could probably work as a dealer in Las Vegas if I wanted to, not that it was an occupation I desired to have any involvement with. I had already been immersed in the life of gambling against my will. I certainly wouldn't intentionally place myself in back in the viper's nest. 

I was knocked out of my trip down memory lane when the plane hit a bit of chop. Over the headset I heard Len give a warning about the weather picking up, but the good news was we were only a half hour away. I found my heartbeat picking up with every second we were closer to Reno.

Maybe once we touched down, I could begin erasing my past and replacing it with a new one. Was that a power that I could get?