Maybe if Roger had been more forthcoming and truthful, he would have told Brandi that, at some point or other, he had met her father. That once, they had even been friends. But revealing that he unlike her, could travel the bounds of space and time, he presumed might have seemed unfair since she was only now just getting the hang of it.
Retreating down the driveway, he tried to think of another reason for Nicholas being there, besides his apparent need to protect Mrs. Daniels. He had after all done a shoddy job of rescuing Brandi, making sure that she was safe. Yet, it wasn’t like Roger’s intervention had gone any better. The bracelet snatching had only been an after-thought, like Lucien’s play on time.
He looked up at the clock, wondering if he should tell her about his father. How he had failed at his job. And now Roger had to save not one but two Daniels. He shook his head, thinking that things were coming to a head too quickly and if they didn’t make some type of plan soon – to help her a avoid the past – the future would be doomed to repeat itself.
At the corner of the street, one of the lights flickered on and Roger looked up at the sky, thinking that the nameless had been right to save him. To let someone of his clan carry on his father’s name. Pulling up the zipper, he took comfort in finding his father’s jacket and carrying his baseball. Sometimes when people died, they said that remnants of them could be found in the ordinary things that they loved. He took comfort in that thought, and the fact that he’d see Brandi at school tomorrow. Even though, he was almost certain that she would pressure him for answers, now that her mother and Nicholas had chosen to open up.
What would he tell her? he wondered. And how was he going to explain that his father had deserted hers, leaving him to rot in a dungeon, decades earlier. He looked up at the sky, cursing himself for forgetting his watch. There would be no sure way to explain that his family were a bunch of nomads. That they often changed direction to suit the wind, and moved whenever feelings of fear and danger threatened to overthrow them. He whistled, ruffling the strand of hair on his head as if they were feathers, the way his father had done when he was younger. But he was no a coward.
He would stick with her through thick and thin, that had been his promise to them, his assurance to her. That whatever happened he would be on her side. He rubbed his fingers together as if, trying to suppress the cold and pulled a pack of chewing gum out of his pocket. While his stomach groaned. Tangled. Truth be told, the people in his clan weren’t brave. Not like in Brandi’s. But he was trying to be different. To change things.
Because the nameless one would appear to her, and show her all of the things that he had somehow hidden. Or just, failed to mention, and then she would know what his father had done, by choosing to leave a realm that wasn’t really meant for him. Then she would know that he had trapped her father and sealed Brandi’s fate.
Roger sank down onto the concrete as if he was trying to find something that he had lost. But there was nothing there. All that he possessed were the deck of cards that he kept in his pocket and the clothes on his back. Clothes he could make change into anything because like Brandi he possessed the touch.
He alone could show her what she was meant to be. Perhaps even destined, but she alone would be the one to choose. To accept the battle.
The wind picked up and he dragged himself over to the grass and shuffled the deck of baseball cards that some say (for them) predicted the future. Who would you be if you could choose to be one of the greats? he thought, laying Joe DiMaggio, Hank Arron and Albert Pujois face down. He shuffled the rest of the cards and added Chipper Jones, Babe Ruth and Mariano Rivera. Uncertain as to which one lady luck would prescribe, when the wind blew and he came face to face with Jackie Robinson.
One of the African American players whom he head learnt, had had it tough, starting out. No. He scratched his head, as another Hank Arron also revealed itself. Brandi wasn’t going to be a wanderer like her father, he thought, re-shuffling the deck. Ashamed that he had allowed Lucien get the upper hand. Only this wasn’t a game.
And she was nothing like her father, he thought because she has everything to live for. He would show her. Because like her, he was doing something that his father could not.
Roger nodded, wiping his eyes, pretending that it had only been the dust. Knowing that this thing between them was only a part of the deal. And he had to make sure that she chose wisely. Not because he truly cared. Or because she seemed lost. With or without him, she would have to learn that life was fraught with risk. Challenges. And if she still chose to be a seer, then he would have to make everything that much harder so that she eventually decided against herself.
Roger stuffed the cards back into his pocket, no longer caring about its order or the sanctity of a reading because Brandi wouldn’t be made to see the cards. Wouldn’t be made to choose, he assured himself, brushing his hands in his jeans and getting up. Ready to make his way home. With or without Nicholas’ help, he would see to it, because revelations were a thing of the past. Something he wouldn’t have to consider because on any journey that she pursued, they’d be doing it together.