? The word echoed in my head. “I don’t
understand,” I said.
His
eyes were impassive. “I can’t die.”
It
took me several seconds to respond. I could hear my breath rasp in my ears. “Are
you saying you’re immortal?”
Brusquely,
he nodded.
I
tried to knit the spinning pieces of my thought processes back together. “You
can’t die,” I repeated.
His
voice was quiet. “I do not age the same way you do. I will not grow old. I can’t
die.”
“So
you’re like…Superman?”
His
smile was thin. “Not even kryptonite can end my life before I choose it to
end.”
“I
see,” I nodded, despite feeling as if I suddenly saw nothing at all.
Immortal ?
What did that really mean? “How old are you?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.
“Older
than you.” His tone was humorless and he locked his eyes back on the ducks.
I
rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Very helpful.”
He
turned to look at me again, his expression serious. “I don’t want to frighten
you.”
“A
bit late for that, isn’t it?” I had, after all, spent a great deal of my life
wondering if I was psychotic.
His
jaw clenched tightly, but he closed his eyes and nodded. “I was born in the year 634,” he said
finally, speaking without inflection.
“Oh.”
My voice caught and I cleared my throat. History was my speciality, but I
couldn’t in that moment fathom the stretch of time he was describing. “Would
that be A.D.?”
He
opened his eyes. “Yes, A.D.” He may have been trying to suppress a smile.
“I
see,” I said again. My brain limped along behind the conversation, trying to process
more than just the sounds of the words.
He
raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking this rather well.”
“Only
because I’m still not sure you’re real.” My smile was weak, as I had begun to
entertain the possibility that I was in the midst of serious breakdown.
He
exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. This is why...” He stopped, shook his head. “I
know it must seem hard to believe.”
“Beats
the alternative.” I shrugged.
“Which
is?”
“That
I’m crazy.”
“Trust
me Rachel. You aren’t crazy.” He looked at me curiously. “I thought this would
be…harder for you to accept.”
“I’m
not finished yet,” I said. I needed to know more.
He
motioned for me to continue.
“Why have you been following me?”
He shook his head. “That’s a bit more
complicated.”
“I’m
pretty quick,” I said.
He
looked away again and the silence settled over us. After a few minutes he
looked back towards me and I felt my breath catch at what I saw in his eyes. “I’m
drawn to you.”
“I
don’t understand.”
“There
is no reason you should.”
“Then
explain it to me.” I couldn’t imagine a sane reason that anyone would be drawn
to me. My life up until this point had been amazingly ordinary. Eaden had
provided the only real mystery in nearly two decades of mundane life.
“Immortality
is a lonely existence. My…uniquenessimposesrestrictions on my interactions with
others. Over the years I’ve come to grasp that it’s not really sensible for me
to form relationships with…mortals.” His eyes were neutral, revealing nothing
about how he might feel. “My life isn’t
like yours, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t wish it was.”
He
hesitated, seeming self-conscious about this confession and we lapsed back into
silence.
My
thoughts swam as I struggled to understand everything he’d just said. “How long have you been watching me?”
“You
were a precocious child,” he said, avoiding my eyes and my question. “Full of
energy and quick to learn. You nearly fell in that pond once trying to catch
the ducks.” He smiled at the memory.
I
knew this story of course. My father had told it to me several times.
“I
was only two when that happened,” I said. Had this man really been in my life
that long?
He
continued. “Your parents came to this park a lot after you were born.
understand,” I said.
His
eyes were impassive. “I can’t die.”
It
took me several seconds to respond. I could hear my breath rasp in my ears. “Are
you saying you’re immortal?”
Brusquely,
he nodded.
I
tried to knit the spinning pieces of my thought processes back together. “You
can’t die,” I repeated.
His
voice was quiet. “I do not age the same way you do. I will not grow old. I can’t
die.”
“So
you’re like…Superman?”
His
smile was thin. “Not even kryptonite can end my life before I choose it to
end.”
“I
see,” I nodded, despite feeling as if I suddenly saw nothing at all.
Immortal ?
What did that really mean? “How old are you?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.
“Older
than you.” His tone was humorless and he locked his eyes back on the ducks.
I
rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Very helpful.”
He
turned to look at me again, his expression serious. “I don’t want to frighten
you.”
“A
bit late for that, isn’t it?” I had, after all, spent a great deal of my life
wondering if I was psychotic.
His
jaw clenched tightly, but he closed his eyes and nodded. “I was born in the year 634,” he said
finally, speaking without inflection.
“Oh.”
My voice caught and I cleared my throat. History was my speciality, but I
couldn’t in that moment fathom the stretch of time he was describing. “Would
that be A.D.?”
He
opened his eyes. “Yes, A.D.” He may have been trying to suppress a smile.
“I
see,” I said again. My brain limped along behind the conversation, trying to process
more than just the sounds of the words.
He
raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking this rather well.”
“Only
because I’m still not sure you’re real.” My smile was weak, as I had begun to
entertain the possibility that I was in the midst of serious breakdown.
He
exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. This is why...” He stopped, shook his head. “I
know it must seem hard to believe.”
“Beats
the alternative.” I shrugged.
“Which
is?”
“That
I’m crazy.”
“Trust
me Rachel. You aren’t crazy.” He looked at me curiously. “I thought this would
be…harder for you to accept.”
“I’m
not finished yet,” I said. I needed to know more.
He
motioned for me to continue.
“Why have you been following me?”
He shook his head. “That’s a bit more
complicated.”
“I’m
pretty quick,” I said.
He
looked away again and the silence settled over us. After a few minutes he
looked back towards me and I felt my breath catch at what I saw in his eyes. “I’m
drawn to you.”
“I
don’t understand.”
“There
is no reason you should.”
“Then
explain it to me.” I couldn’t imagine a sane reason that anyone would be drawn
to me. My life up until this point had been amazingly ordinary. Eaden had
provided the only real mystery in nearly two decades of mundane life.
“Immortality
is a lonely existence. My…uniquenessimposesrestrictions on my interactions with
others. Over the years I’ve come to grasp that it’s not really sensible for me
to form relationships with…mortals.” His eyes were neutral, revealing nothing
about how he might feel. “My life isn’t
like yours, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t wish it was.”
He
hesitated, seeming self-conscious about this confession and we lapsed back into
silence.
My
thoughts swam as I struggled to understand everything he’d just said. “How long have you been watching me?”
“You
were a precocious child,” he said, avoiding my eyes and my question. “Full of
energy and quick to learn. You nearly fell in that pond once trying to catch
the ducks.” He smiled at the memory.
I
knew this story of course. My father had told it to me several times.
“I
was only two when that happened,” I said. Had this man really been in my life
that long?
He
continued. “Your parents came to this park a lot after you were born.
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