Chapter 5

Where to go ... what to do? Who to believe in ... who to trust?

I was calm as the ocean in the eye of a hurricane. So why were my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly? Why did it feel as if I were waiting for a bullet to come plowing thru the back of my head? Why was I driving west towards the Ranch in the dark with heavy snow falling all around and no headlights? Why did the image of my sister, arm in arm with a stranger who wasn't a stranger, keep popping into my mind? I didn't want to relive that moment, but for some reason it kept returning to haunt me.

Here it comes again!

The electric tingling sensation began spreading thru the nerves of my muscles, beginning in my shoulders and radiating down my arms and chest and into my belly.

I pulled the car over to the side of the road, flung open the door and fell out, crawling blindly along the blacktop on my hands and knees as the bloody haze obscured my sight. Somehow I made it around to the back of the car and began puking my guts out into the churned up mix of snow and gravel.

You disgust me. You pathetic, whimpering, whining worm! "Oooh-oooh ... she betrayed me! She hurt my feelings! I'm gonna cry like a fuckin' little puss!" What a sad excuse for a man you turned out to be. No wonder she went looking for someone better.

I wiped the bile from my lips with the back of my hand and snarled out into the dark night beyond the road's edge.

"Shut the hell up, cocksucker!" I spat.

... not me, laughing boy, not me.

"FUUUUUUUUUUKKKKKK!!!!" I bellowed, rising to my feet. The darkness before me lit up like afternoon in the Arizona desert. Trees, hedges, bushes, brambles ... if it was alive before my eyes, it lit up and burned like a bonfire.

Ha-ha-ha-ha! Burn, baby, burn!!! Yeah! Smoke 'em if you got 'em, smoke 'em like you had 'em ... that's the way to make people think you still got a pair, you limp-dick albino bitch!

What was wrong with me? One minute I couldn't feel anything and the next it was like all the anger, rage and nastiness in the world was boiling up out of me.

Think, damnit!

You know what, there are times for thinking and there are times when you have to let go and feel. You're afraid to just feel. Why do you suppose that is?

"I don't know."

Sure you do. I know why, which means you know why. The difference is that I'm willing to acknowledge it and you aren't. I guess that makes me superior to you, huh?

"You want to think that, go right ahead. I never claimed to be superior to anyone."

You know what pisses me off the most ... this lame-ass sense of false humility you keep waving about like it was some kind of badge of honor.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I never claimed to be superior." Jee-zeus! When the hell are you going to accept the fact that you are superior? You take this humble shit way too far ... and it's turned you into a joke. The only people who respect you anymore are the ones who're afraid. You go out of your way to avoid using the abilities you have, abilities that define you, and make you who and what you are. Oh, you'll use them to catch spies, traitors and so-called evil-doers, and you'll use them to help total strangers, but not to keep your own family happy and in working order.

"It's an invasion of their privacy!"

But doing it to people you don't know is different, right? That makes it okay. Hypocrite! You're one sorry sophist; you know that don't'cha?

"I know. Hypocrite, sophist and hair-splitter. That sums me up pretty neatly."

Well, you don't have to be so fuckin' proud of it. It's nothing to be proud of, unless you imagine you're some kind of victim. Victims have things happen to them and are helpless to do anything about it. You are not helpless. Sack-less sometimes, spineless at others, but never-ever helpless.

Not helpless. Never helpless. As long as I was alive there was something I could do.

The image of Isabeau and Alex Chorney walking together thru the parking garage popped into my head again followed quickly by the tingling.

"I've got to find a way to stop this." I muttered to myself.

Why?

"Because I can't control..."

Have you tried to control the feelings? Tried to control the process? No, you panicked and went looking for someplace else to put them so you wouldn't have to deal with them. You are one chicken-shit sonofabitch ain't'cha?

I was going from feeling nothing to being overwhelmed by feelings. Unpleasant feelings to be sure, but I'd dealt with worse in the past, hadn't I?

Could anything be worse than feeling someone you love suffer and die?

Could anything feel worse? I'd survived that ... how had I survived that?

You survived it by making it a part of you, taking it in and accepting it for what it was. You didn't run from it or hide it. It made you one miserable fuckin' asshole to be around for a few years, but you survived. You can do the same thing with this batch. If you're willing to suffer. You are willing to suffer, aren't you martyr-boy?

"I'm no martyr."

Sure you are. You love the idea of carrying the weight and suffering of the entire world on your shoulders. You go out of your way to take responsibility for sins that aren't even yours. It blends so well with that over-blown sense of humility. Hell, you'd rather nail yourself to a cross and hang there while the admiring crowd stands around ooohing and ahhhing your act of self sacrifice than stand up and do something about it. It's funny really. You claim that you don't believe in religion, but the faith you don't believe in has turned you into an emotional eunuch. You've avoided your own feelings and emotions by sifting thru those of other people, using your job as an excuse and justification. You still don't think you have a right to your own feelings as well as those of everyone around you. You have one great big honkin' guilt complex going here Sparky, and if you don't do something about it damn quick we're all gonna be seriously fucked.

Could he be right? Had I been avoiding my own feelings? Did I actually believe I wasn't entitled to emotions of my own?

There's one easy way to find out. Let 'em in and cope as best you can. Don't try to suppress them, don't hide from them and don't get rid of them. They're yours and you need to feel 'em, even if they burn you like the fires of Hell.

The tingling increased, spreading downwards thru my body like the fires before me spread across the snow covered landscape. The emotions began boiling up and I was growing desperate to get rid of them. I shut my eyes tight and stood naked in the snow, letting the pain, anguish, rage, hostility, fear and jealousy fill me. And with them came fleeting flashes of memories; each image tightly bound to its very own emotion. They came and came and kept right on coming.

It was torture. Every nerve was coated with molten agony. Bitterness, despair, rejection and betrayal swam thru my blood, surrounding my heart and taking up residence in my belly.

I don't know if Hell is fire or ice ... for all I know it's both and then some. But that night, at that moment, in an instant that lasted forever and just a few heartbeats at the same time, I burned and froze, raged and mourned, laughed and cried, lived and died and lived again.

Do you know what this is, dumbshit? What you've been so eager to get rid of? This is power! This is what makes you superior.

"You're wrong about this making me superior."

Am I? Everyone has feelings. But how many can take those feelings from another? How many can give feelings to another? How many can take a tiny sensation and make it huge? How many can take a normal human emotion and kill with it? How many can take that same emotion and heal with it? Please, tell me you don't buy into that egalitarian crap about everyone being equal. 'Cause we both know it just ain't so. If everyone were exactly the same there'd be no place for the exceptional. A world of mediocrity. There'd be no genius, no great athletes, no heroes and no villains. And sure as god made little green apples, there wouldn't be any you.

The pain increased to the point where tears were slipping out from under my tightly shut eyelids, rolling down along my nose, turning to steam and boiling away as they touched my cheeks. The hissing of tears and snowflakes when they came into contact with my inflamed skin was like the sound of butter on a hot skillet. The steam-like shrieking penetrated the thunderous sound of bubbling blood that was raging thru my veins, creating an appalling symphonic cacophony within my ears.

Why are you so dead set against being better than other people? What the hell is wrong with being smarter or faster or stronger?

"Arrogance is what's wrong with it." I grated between tightly clenched teeth.

Conceit, self-importance and over-confidence are what you really mean. Maybe throw in a smidgen of egotism. How about PRIDE?

"Yeah. All of the above."

Pride in your abilities is not a bad thing. See, we're right back to the humility issue. "Pride goeth before a fall." Tell me, bright boy, what ever happened to the idea that it was a good thing to be well regarded for your skills and abilities and to take pride in your achievements? What's wrong with working to gain the respect and admiration of others? I'll tell you what happened ... the religion of "humility", that's what happened. "The meek shall inherit the earth." What a crock of shit! Humble, timid, submissive, mild, docile... spineless! The only earth they're gonna inherit is the patch they're buried in. You have this weird notion that good equals humble. Good don't mean shit! Evil don't mean shit! Except as you apply it or it applies to you. You know this, but you won't accept it. And why? Because you want everyone to love you! Well I've got a news flash for you, fire-ball; it ain't gonna happen. No matter how hard you try, no matter what you do, it just ain't gonna happen. Time to grow up and face facts. There are people who will love you, who will like you, who won't give a rat's ass about you, and there are people who will hate your guts. The only way everyone's gonna love you is if you make them. And you keep saying that you don't want to do that. Well then, fine ... don't. But stop using it as an excuse to not use your abilities to their fullest extent and your utmost ability. Stop using it as an excuse to run away from the mess you've made of your life.

"I didn't run away. I'm doing what I can to protect them from my lack of control."

Yeah, right. Say it often enough and you might even start to believe it. They need you and you ran away. You couldn't deal with feeling rejected and betrayed so you ran. Good thinking. What about your children? How are they gonna feel? Abandoned and rejected maybe? Responsible for whatever it is that's happening? Little kids think the entire world revolves around them, so QED, right? Don't you love any of them? Or has one rough spot in your path destroyed you that completely?

"One rough spot?" I snarled into the snowy night. "You really are an asshole -- asshole!"

I'm not Mother Teresa, I'm not Gandhi and I sure as hell ain't Jesus or Buddha. And neither are you. So stop trying to be something you ain't and concentrate on being better at what you are.

I stood quietly for several breaths, immersed in my private sea of troubles and wishing I had a damned sharp bodkin handy.

"Are you real, or am I just imagining you?"

I could ask you the same thing.

"That doesn't answer my question."

It wasn't much of a question. I didn't think it deserved much of an answer ... asshole!

I stood in the snow and cold for quite a while, letting the icy wind lash futilely at the flames that engulfed my body. In time I became accustomed to the over stuffed and swollen sensation of my personal torment, becoming resigned to the ache in my chest and at peace with the anger and disappointment that gnawed at my belly. The image of my sister and her boy-friend, along with dozens of unrelated but equally hurtful memories, ran thru my mind like a never-ending loop of movie film and while I still got mad and wanted to pulverize him slowly, the nausea that had previously accompanied that desire began to recede. And when that happened I remembered where and when I'd met Alex Chorney.

And I remembered everything else as well. Every damn feeling, sensation, thought and memory I'd suppressed since the second of August 1995 came fully into focus. It felt like my brain had swollen to three times its normal size.

I opened my eyes and looked around. It was still dark, and the snow was still falling. The thick white blanket had gradually put out the fires I'd started and I was only just able to make out the charred remains of trees and bushes in the dark. I flexed my arms, legs, shoulders and neck, wiped the moisture off my body and returned to the driver's side door, removed as much of the snow that had blown inside and piled up in the driver's seat as I could, climbed behind the wheel and shut the door. I flipped on the headlights and pulled back onto the road. At the first opportunity I got off the main road, turned around and headed for home.

It was somewhere around two in the morning when I finally got back. Snow was falling harder and faster than it had all night and the wind had increased to the point that it looked like the snow was falling sideways. Large drifts were forming around the cars on the drive and a white ramp was growing up against the front of the house.

I turned off the engine, snagged my duffle bag with one hand and opened the driver's side door. The force of the wind shoved it back into my shoulder and I rapped my head against the ice cold window with a loud 'crack'. I muscled the door open, holding it with my free hand, and got out as fast as I could. It slammed shut behind me as soon as I released my hold. I plowed almost blindly thru the knee deep snow to the front door, the duffle slung over my shoulder. Cold stiffened fingers were fumbling to insert the key into the dead-bolt when the door swung open. Standing in the doorway with a shotgun leveled at my chest was Lilly. Peggy was just behind and off to one side, a pistol held in both her small hands.

"Don't shoot me before I have a chance to apologize." I said softly.

Lilly lowered her weapon and stepped back, letting me inside. I closed the door as quietly as I could and locked it. Setting my bag down against the door I turned back around to face my girls.

Lilly had set the shotgun down, leaning it up against the wall and was tightening the belt of her robe.

"What are you doing here Ike? I thought you couldn't control yourself." she said, anger evident in every line of her face.

"I was half way to the ranch when I figured it all out. Lilly, Peggy ... I am so sorry for putting you thru all of this. I'm sorry for dumping everything on you and running away. It was a cowardly, immature and irresponsible thing to do."

Lilly stepped closer and put a hand against my bare chest.

"You aren't going to be accidentally blowing up anything else?" she asked gently.

"No. I've got it under control now."

"You're sure?"

I nodded my head. "I'm sure."

"Good." Then she reached up and slapped me so hard across the face that I had to check to make sure I hadn't lost any teeth.

"How dare you scare us like that, you sonofabitch? You ever do something like that again and I'll ... I'll..."

I got down on one knee and she threw herself at me, pounding on my chest and arms as if I were a punching bag. The only thing I did in my own defense was to keep her fists away from my nose. I kinda liked it the way it was. After a couple of minutes she tired herself out and collapsed against me, sobbing and shaking. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, rocking the both of us back and forth until she calmed down.

"It'll never happen again, honey." I whispered into her ear.

She pushed away, breaking my hold on her and glared at me. "It damn well better not." she said grumpily, turned around, picked up the shotgun and walked away.

I watched her swaying hips until she disappeared around a corner. I took a deep breath and turned my head to where Peggy stood, pistol in hand, the barrel laying against her neck.

"You want to clobber me too, as long as I'm down here?" I asked her.

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "It wouldn't be any fun at all if you just let me."

I locked eyes with her and linked. "It was never about my loving you or Lilly less than I love my sister, never about putting her first." I told her.

She watched me for a bit, cocked her head to one side and smiled. "No, it wasn't ... and it's still there and just as warm as ever ... but it's buried beneath so much other crap. I thought you had this thing under control?"

"I do. I was trying to suppress those other feelings before; trying to convince myself that they didn't exist. I think the part of me that amplifies emotions went into overdrive and started acting like a pre-amp, taking the tiniest little hints of feelings and jacking them up and up and up ... until there was nothing for me to do if I wanted to avoid remembering and suffering, but unload. Once I stopped suppressing and accepted the emotions ... well that's what I think was going on. It still hurts. It hurts a lot."

She nodded her head in agreement. "I know sweetie, I know." She stepped up close and put her arms around my neck, pressing her small body against me. "Lilly and I are hurting too. And not just because of what happened with Izzy."

I hugged her tightly to me. "I never for a moment thought you'd believe that I only loved you girls as a group. Because I don't, you know; I love you individually, I always have. I guess I've done a lousy job of letting you know that, and I see now how leaving the way I did would only reinforce that belief. I will always love you Peggy, individually, not because you're one of a set."

Peggy squeezed me hard and kissed my cheek. "You just be sure to let Lilly know too."

"I will. Peggy ... I honestly thought I was protecting you all; doing the right thing, you know? It turns out that I was just trying to protect myself. I handle physical pain pretty well, but I'm a real wimp when it comes to the emotional kind."

"Yeah you are. I've known that for a long time, and I'm pretty sure Lilly knows it too." She tightened her arms around my neck. "We'll forgive you... ," I couldn't help but flinch when she said that, " ... in time. But you're gonna have to work for it."

I sighed. "Forgiveness doesn't come cheap, huh?"

"Nothing cheap is worth having." She let go of me and backed up. "Now, if you're going to insist on walking around nude all the time you'll be the one answering the kid's questions, not us." She giggled and grinned at me. "You wouldn't believe some of the things Tink and Rosie had to say about you."

I stood up slowly. "Come on, they're still babies. They can't possibly ... can they?"

"Little girls grow up fast these days. Puberty may still be a few years off, but they're all very smart and very curious."

"Heaven help me." I moaned sadly. "I led a very sheltered life, especially regarding sex, for most of my life. I wouldn't know what to say."

"Better start thinking about it ... daddy. They're going to ask and when they do I'm sending them right to you." she laughed.

"You're a cruel woman, Peggy. But I love you anyway."

"I know. I'm going back upstairs now, so you stay right here for a bit and stare at my butt while I walk away. I know how much you enjoy that sort of thing. But then I want you to get your ass upstairs and into bed and let Lilly know that you love her."

"You aren't coming?"

She shook her head slightly. "I'm going to keep watch over Izzy. Something's going on with her that I can't quite put my finger on, but I've been keeping her asleep since you left. I'm not prepared to deal with hysterics from her right now. You're really going to have your hands full when she wakes up in the morning."

"That might not be the best idea ... me dealing with her, I mean."

"The two of you are going to have to work it out at some point. Lilly and I agree that the sooner you do, the better it'll be for all of us."

"Peggy ... I know the guy she was with. I've met him before."

Her eyes narrowed and the features of her pretty face took on a hard cast. "You know him?"

"I know who he is. We met once, very briefly in a CIA safe house. He was a field agent Dr. Wills brought in to test me. His name was 'Alex', or so Wills said, but they never told me more than that."

"You don't think this was just a casual affair, do you?"

"What do I know about casual affairs? As far as Alex goes, I only remembered having seen him once I stopped suppressing, so I haven't had a whole lot of time to think things thru. It could be a coincidence I suppose."