The Elementalist

13. Seeking Solace-2

“Paul, will you please let me try to explain?”

“Yeah, sure.” He folded his arms smugly. “I’d love to hear you explain this one away.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, gee, let’s see.” He looked at the ceiling as if thinking deeply. “First, it was the fact that you were an emelesiac; that wasn’t even a big deal, but you made it one.”

She slapped her hands onto the table. “Of course it was a big deal!”

“What I mean is that it’s not like you can control what kind of conditions you inherit, yet you keep making excuses for who you are like it’s your fault. You’re always trying to cover stuff up. Now this?” He let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s like you don’t even realize you can trust me. I mean for f**k’s sake, Voi, I’m your friend.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore.

“I swear, it’s like secrecy runs in your family or something. Your father gets caught up in some shady military s**t—not his fault, but still. Then you pretend like your Aunt Clara doesn’t exist, and you never talk about your mother. I just don’t get why everything has to be such a big damn secret with you, Voi.”

Making eye contact with Paul seemed the wrong thing to do, as his face reddened considerably.

“What,” he said, “you think this makes you more mysterious or something, keeping stuff like this from me? ‘Cause it doesn’t. Quite frankly, Voi, it just pisses me off.”

Two Maelt patrons behind Paul rose from their table, unable to bear anymore.

Voi blinked a few times, the full implications of his words slow to hit her. “That’s not… that’s not what this is about, Paul! I just didn’t want to—”

His expression remained unsympathetic.

“I was afraid. I didn’t think you’d understand the truth.”

“After everything we’ve been through together, Voi, I find that a bit insulting.”

Voi slouched, biting hard on her lip. Even if she could tell Paul about the nature of her work—about the secret training sessions to become an elemental agent—he wouldn’t believe her. How could he? It would only confirm the fact that she was a loony emelesiac, doomed for the same fate her Aunt Clara was suffering.

But Sector One was Voi’s only way out of that future. If only she could make him see. “Paul, I…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she just shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything more about my situation.”

“Fine. Forget it, Voi. You don’t want to tell me what’s going on? Then don’t. I’ve only been here for you for the past four years, but I guess that wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Paul…”

He stood up, pulled his jacket off the back of his chair then slung it on. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we both need to just look out for ourselves now. Maybe this is the part where life takes us separate ways.”

“Paul, please don’t go.” She couldn’t believe it; he was turning his back on her. “Paul!” Her shriek startled those around her, though he didn’t look back. A disturbance rippled through the air—napkins fluttering on nearby tables, only to settle again.

Voi looked around, baffled by the effect. A woman placed her hand on top of her napkin to keep it from moving before casting a suspicious gaze at Voi.

Dammit, Voi, you’ve got to be more careful now! Quickly, she looked away, remembering the dilating effect that using her abilities had on her pupils. Paranoid about all the onlookers, Voi kept her gaze low, then hurried after Paul. She burst through the café door, nearly knocking over two Maelt women then meeting their Urzu protests with a hurried apology before running to the sidewalk. “Paul, wait!”

He was crossing the street.

Not thinking, Voi ran into traffic.

The blare of car horns startled her senseless, causing her to backtrack, shielding herself with her arms. One driver swerved out of the way, throwing off those behind him. The hitch soon dispersed, however, and the world carried on.

Curious folk stared in bewilderment at Voi as she stood there on the sidewalk, gazing ahead in breathless, wide-eyed disbelief. She ran her fingers through her hair, realizing that everything she held dear in life was slipping away.

Maybe Milia was right; maybe becoming an elementalist wasn’t for Voi. She looked up the street, lost and confused, wondering whether this new job was worth losing everything she’d worked so hard to establish, paltry as it was.

After all, she’d already lost a best friend.

* * *

It was clear to Voi that Paul had no intention of speaking to her again for some time. Secily and Lila were also avoiding her with excuses about how busy they were.

Voi sulked on her sofa, brooding on the fact she had no support group, no one to fall back on and ask, “Am I making the right decision?” Not that Paul or Secily or Lila would be able to offer much insight, given the confidential and unusual nature of Voi’s predicament. Still, she needed someone she could consult with on such a life-changing decision.

As she saw it, there was only one other person she knew who could possibly understand her plight: her mother, Bambi Román, who was also an elementalist, according to Mr. Callahan.

Voi tentatively approached the telephone in the living room, as she and Bambi had fallen out after Voi left school. Still, oath of secrecy or not, she would get an informed opinion on this Sector One business. Determined, Voi snatched up the handset, dialed the operator, provided her mother’s number and location, then waited to be connected to Borellia—wondering if Bambi would even be home or willing to speak to the defiant daughter who’d snubbed her.

Three tries later, a velvety voice sang into the earpiece: “Ouele? Villa Román.”

Voi froze, uncertain how to reply. It’d been over two years since she last spoke to Bambi and twice as long since she’d last visited her mother’s quaint little Trysteese cottage during an aerial tour of the Borellian countryside. Voi swallowed before responding. “Benadieux.” Finding it difficult to speak further, she resorted to introducing herself indirectly initially: “Saene jue. Saen… Vwah.” She pronounced her name the Borellian way.

Her mother hesitated over the phone. “Voi…” This was not a question but rather a reflection. She continued in Borellian. “I wasn’t expecting this.” She sighed. “Life is going well for you in Chandra City, I presume?”

“Chandra has been good to me, mostly. It’s just, well, I—” Voi took in a deep breath, surprised to hear herself shudder.

“What’s wrong?”

Voi took another breath then went on. “A man approached me with a job offer—through the government, Memé. It’s piloting but… different, more dangerous than my usual jobs. I’m not sure if I should take it.”

Crackling filled the space between them.

“Do you have a need for another job, Voi?”

Instinctively, Voi took up the telephone set then began walking around. “Unfortunately, yes. The business isn’t doing so well, and I haven’t progressed any at the museum, and… oh, I’m so gullible!” She stomped her foot.

Her mother didn’t respond.

“He came to me at the perfect moment, Memé.” Voi resumed walking. “You see, I was just beginning to panic about the charter company. Of course, there’s also the matter of me already passing my twenty-fifth birthday; that’s always on my mind. Then, what do you know? A well-dressed man comes along who says he has a cure and… oh, I was so desperate, Memé!”

“I see.” Cool and detached, as usual.

“I’ve already started my training, though. Things are happening so quickly, but my friends—” Voi’s words came out in such a slew that she was forced to take another breath. “They don’t understand! How could they? I can’t tell them anything; it was all part of the agreement. Now, they just think I’m deserting them.” Voi sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Memé.” She sobbed softly into the receiver.

“This man, does he work for the organazion saewenasionol?”

“Ouele,” Voi answered between sniffles, relieved that her mother seemed to understand which ‘international organization’ was behind her predicament.

“Oh, Voi…” Something rustled in the background as if Bambi were taking a seat.

Voi leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She thought of her mother, a former army medic, in her white linen dress and the wide-brimmed straw hat with the saffron sash, crouching in the garden where she’d isolated herself. She’d wear her spare military issue boots while patiently coaxing perennials and native wildflowers to an almost unnatural vibrancy. Sometimes, Voi would catch Bambi sobbing beneath the sunflowers, and she would hug her mother, cautiously.

The distance between them had been there long before her father’s disappearance, yet in the chaos of Voi’s present life, she longed for Bambi’s touch, despite the grudge she harbored. Her father was the one who’d always encouraged Voi’s adventurous spirit; Bambi, on the other hand, was the ‘sensible’ one—which was why she sought the woman’s wisdom now.

How did we go so wrong? Voi had needed someone to blame for her father’s absence, and her mother was all she had left.

“I imagine this job offers considerable compensation, Voi.”

Bambi’s voice startled Voi out of her reverie, though her memory of the garden’s scents lingered with her. “Yes,” she said, “it pays well.”

Her mother was quiet for a moment. “You may not see it right away, Voi, but this is a good opportunity. It will cost you; I won’t lie. However, I don’t believe you’ll regret it.”

“But my friends—”

“If they are truly worthy of that title, Voi, then they will come to accept your decision, regardless of whether you’re unable to discuss the specifics of your job. And if they still turn their backs on you, well, perhaps those relationships weren’t meant to last.”

Voi sighed, managing to check her emotions. There were so many things she wished to know. Surely her mother held opinions on life as an elementalist? Voi decided to take a more personal route towards this matter.

“Memé?”

“Yes, Voi?”

“After Pepé’s disappearance, did you ever regret your decision?”

“No. Even now, I would have done the same. The… opportunity allowed me to experience the emelesiac’s life as it was meant to be. If I hadn’t taken it, I would have never known what was missing in my life, nor discovered what I was capable of…”

Voi could sense her mother’s attention drifting away as her voice trailed off.

“Listen, dear, I really must be going. There’s someone’s at the door. Besides, the bill for this call is going to be atrocious.”

Dear. The term of endearment warmed her heart. “Alright.” Voi smiled then sat up straighter, wiping away lingering tears. “Thank you, Memé. Thank you for taking my call and… for understanding.”

“It will get easier in time, Voi.”

Voi hesitated. “Memé?”

“Yes, Voi?” Her tone was urgent.

“I don’t regret becoming a pilot, you know.”

A startling pause came before her mother’s reply—as if she hadn’t wished for this topic to resurface. “I just wish you would have finished school first. Desertion is a blight on your reputation that may never fully go away.” Bambi sighed. “Take care, Voi.”

“You as well, Memé.”

There was a click, but the call didn’t end immediately. Voi kept the handset to her ear, listening to the crackling line and the operator’s subtle breathing before the dial tone sang.

Voi replaced the telephone set on the console table then stared at the wall—thinking of her Aunt Clara and what life might be like if she didn’t take Mr. Callahan’s offer and resume her training.

She shuddered at the conclusion.

From now on, Voi would fully commit herself to the mission. No regrets.