Kendra

Chapter 1

The rock stood unmoving. Its surface was alternately smooth and rough. Its jagged edges gleamed softly in the meagre yellow light. It was no larger than a golf ball and it held my complete attention.

I thought it was most likely quartz, one of Dorjan’s favourite stones. I concentrated so intently on the stone that my surroundings barely registered, nor did the man seated across the chipped table from me, even though he was yelling viciously.

Concentrate! Concentrate!

The older man’s icy glare was enough to chill anything it touched. Unfortunately, it was fixed firmly on me.

The rock suddenly began to shiver slightly. The tiny tremors quickly increased in violence until the stone wobbled and hopped along the table, rolling slowly toward the edge of it. Dorjan’s temper flared as my eyes narrowed with my intense focus on the task at hand. Damn it, Gaia, concentrate! The rock toppled onto its side, rolling across the table. It levitated a few centimetres, spinning on an unseen axis. It exploded and sent shards and dust everywhere, hitting everything in the room.

I brushed the cold, greasy sweat off my brow and pushed my long blond hair behind my ears. With the explosion, the dour room returned to my attention. I sighed and let my head fall into my hands. I sat silently before raising my head wearily.

My eyelids drooped as I surveyed the decrepit kitchen. It was painted a yellow that, once, would have been cheerful, but was now faded and sad. The Formica counter tops were chipped and the Formica was pulling away from the wood. Some of the cupboards were missing their doors and showed only empty, grimy shelves. I sighed again and tried to explain. Dorjan, I-

My voice trailed away as the man stood slowly. Don’t worry about it, Gaia, he said calmly. He used an amiable tone the drove the brutal knife of fear through my heart. I would rather that he had held a knife or a gun and screamed wildly than this proverbial calm before the storm. I have spent years training you, yet you only manage to accomplish silly, mediocre tricks and even those usually do not turn out, he continued and he slithered around the table.

As he neared my chair I stood, raising my hands as if it could ward him off. Dorjan, please! I pleaded. I’ve been trying! Really I have! I’m exhausted. You’ve had me here for a week and I haven’t even slept for four hours! I’m tired; of course I’m not going to do well.

My plea was unable to continue for his hand lashed out and struck my face with brutal strength. I stumbled and was forced to grab the chair to keep from falling, from becoming even more vulnerable. It was over if I fell.

I raised my hand to my shattered nose, feeling my warm blood flow from my body through my fingers and drip to the dirty floor. As the blood fell, it saturated my t-shirt picturing Ben Jackson and other members of the band Silver Force.

It seemed prophetic, to see my father’s face ruined with blood. I smiled sadly as I watched the blood flow down his kind, smiling, silk-screened face. How I wished for my family, for any existence that did not resemble this one.

Dorjan returned my smile, his snow-white teeth baring menacingly. You think this is funny? Well, you will learn to focus, he announced confidently. With cat-like reflexes and agility that is uncommon to a man appearing to be forty years old, he attacked.

Unable to fend him off, I fell and my head bounced off of the hard floor. As I fell, Dorjan’s hands and feet continued battering me. I closed my eyes trying to believe that I was at home in bed.

Unfortunately, the mounting agony made the task impossible. My eyes fluttered open as a moan escaped from my lips. I refused to cry or scream. It only made his rage grow even stronger. Thanks to him, I can now say I have the highest pain tolerance of anyone I’ve ever met.

My eyes opened wide, only to see Dorjan’s foot, clad in expensive Italian loafers, fly toward my head. In the moment before his foot hit its target, I caught sight of one bright, crimson drop of blood. It seemed significant somehow, different from the others that splattered the room, but before I could figure out what it meant, my world fell into darkness. 

*****

The oak dresser made a dull thud as Rachel and Dane Robson placed it as gently as they could on the light pastel hallway carpet. Both were panting heavily from hauling the dresser up the stairs to the second floor. Honey, I have a plan. Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and get us something to drink while I go clear space for us to get this thing in there? Rachel asked.

Dane answered, cheerfully sarcastic. Sure, make me go back downstairs. He grinned as he leaned over the dresser to kiss his wife on her flushed cheek.

Rachel watched him descend with a small contented smile playing on her lips. She entered the fairly large guest room and contemplated where to place the dresser. The carpet was thick and pale blue, which matched the moulding at the top of the cream coloured walls. Guests enjoyed this room; it had a casual, homey feeling to it, largely due to the country style of the quilt on the bed and the style of the furniture.

She stood and gazed out the window, memories of the past three years of glorious marriage flowing through her mind. Their lives were perfect, at least as far as she was concerned. They were in wedded bliss. Arguments were rare, they now owned their dream home, and both were successful in their careers. Rachel’s nineteen-year-old son, Eric, got along famously with Dane. Although Eric was already very successful himself and old enough to live on his own, it was essential for Rachel to have his approval of Dane. It meant the world to her that Dane and Eric behaved as if they were naturally father and son.

Rachel’s musings were brought to an abrupt halt as she turned to survey the room yet again. On the far side of the beautifully carved oak bed, on the floor, she caught just a glimpse of a girlish hand. Little by little, she inched around the bed to view the intruder.

A girl, if you went by the long, unwashed blond hair, lay facing away from Rachel. She was curled into the fetal position and appeared to be asleep. Rachel suspected that even residents of China could have heard the fuss of her and Dane moving the dresser. She couldn’t fathom how anyone could sleep through the ruckus.

Rachel obeyed her urge to see who had claimed the guest room for their own, no matter how dangerous it may be. She just raised her hands to straighten the person’s legs to roll them onto their back when Dane entered the room. We’ve got Pepsi on the rocks and orange juice and- He stopped when he saw the bed. Hey, you never said we had company.

Rachel stared up at Dane’s dark features. I didn’t know.

Dane’s face shifted into a look of apprehension. I think the only thing we can do is wake her up and find out why she’s here, he replied.

They both tried, unsuccessfully, to wake the intruder by gently shaking her by the shoulder. They finally rolled her onto her back. As she rolled, her dirty, matted hair covered her face. Dane brushed the veil of hair aside. Dane heard Rachel gasp in shock, while he could only stare in horror.

A young face with a full mouth, high cheekbones, and beautiful skin was revealed. The face was gorgeous, or rather, would have been if the features were not concealed by the nose and eyes, all enormously swollen, and if the rest wasn’t caked with an amazing amount of dried blood. It was crystal clear that the girl was not a deep sleeper; she was unconscious.

Oh, God! Rachel whispered as she began to panic. Dane! Call an ambulance!

Chapter 2

I sat cross-legged in the tree house that stood level with my second floor bedroom window. I possessed a descent view of the neighbourhood. A boy was walking his dog on the next block and a girl, roughly my age, was in-line skating down the tree-lined street.

Although the residential street was fairly busy for that time of day, I couldn’t be distracted from my gloomy thoughts. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of activity. After waking up in the hospital a week after being discovered, I found that Rachel and Dane had begun the process of adopting me. It really was quite amazing when you think about it. They did not know a single thing about me when they chose to adopt me, except that I was beaten beyond recognition and had somehow got into their house.

At that point, they both believed that I could not remember what had happened to me since the time that I had supposedly run away from my last foster home. They believed I had no recollection of the week prior to being discovered in their home and how I had managed to be injured so severely.

To the contrary, I remembered everything clearly. So clearly that there is no doubt that it actually happened. Too often, bad memories seem more like dreams than reality. Not this time. Well, there was one exception. I did not have any memory of how I ended up at Rachel and Dane’s house. It was surely one of Dorjan’s favourite little tricks that he pulled every so often, hoping that I would make a mistake.

I was grateful that no one else, except Max, knew the truth about me. I had a set of new, wonderfully generous parents. They were already talking about taking a family vacation when Rachel’s son returned. I have never been on a real vacation, family or otherwise.

Another thing that I was curious about was my new brother. Rachel told me that he was nineteen.  He had a good job that involved a lot of travel. I figured that he was probably some sort of salesman for panty liners or something based on her refusal to tell me more on the basis that I would, undoubtedly, figure it out when I met him.

Although I felt like I could tell Rachel and Dane nearly everything, I knew there were certain things that had to be kept secret. They could not know who or what I was. They could not know what my given name is or who my natural parents are. Dorjan would kill them, or anyone who found out, in a heartbeat, an insane plot to keep me under his control. They would think me insane anyways, I mumbled quietly to myself. They nearly had me committed the last time I told the truth.

Gaia! Your brother will be here any minute! Rachel called up the stairs to me.

I got up and crawled through my bedroom window. I quickly checked my hair in the mirror, a pointless effort given how horrible my face still looked. The bruises had not yet faded and my nose was still splinted and healing and my eyes were still black.

I brushed my hair down and gazed at my new stereo. It had been playing loud enough for me to hear it in the tree house with the window open. It was playing one of my favourite albums at the time by a rock band called Odyssey. I flicked the power switch, feeling the familiar pang of sadness, and hurried out of the room.

I was bouncing down the stairs when I nearly ran into Rachel, who was on her way up. She laughed. Come on, you. Why don’t we have some coffee while we wait for Eric to get here?

How nice it was that she already knew some of my favourite pleasures. None of my previous potential parents had ever taken the time. I grinned. The yummy hazelnut kind?

Rachel returned my grin and put her arms about my shoulders. Any kind you want, as long as we don’t have to go to Columbia for it. I laughed, driving away my dreary thoughts to concentrate on being a family, while she continued. I just know you and Eric are going to hit it off. But I think we should set down some rules.

Rules? I asked. My brow furrowed in puzzlement. I had been on my best possible behaviour, and was trying my hardest to fit in, not that I was a horrible kid. One of my biggest fears regarding adoption was that I would not fit in with my new family. I’ve heard that this is a very common fear among most foster kids and orphans. What did I do wrong? I was extremely apprehensive about this turn of events, of losing the good family I had just been fortunate enough to receive. Even if the reasons behind it were unclear and most certainly not for my own good.

We had since reached the kitchen where Rachel poured coffee into two exquisite homemade mugs. She looked at me softly, her eyes flashing sadness and pity. Gaia, she began as I held my breath. You don’t have to be scared that we’re going to send you back. The adoption's not official yet, but you’re a part of this family now. Does a family desert someone because of a couple of mistakes?

I did not hesitate to reply, my past in foster care flashing through my mind. Yes, I said confidently.

She jerked her head away from pouring cream into the coffees. I bit my lip. She obviously was not expecting that reply. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her lips fixed themselves into a grim line. Not in ours. You’re in this family until the end and that’s final, she declared firmly.

Frankly, I was stunned. Rachel was normally very easygoing. That little outburst was quite out of character for her. That much I knew already.

She placed the cups on the round kitchen table and sat down. Now, there’s basically one rule. You have a good head on your shoulders and you can take care of yourself all right. We trust you to do what’s right. The only thing is that you can’t talk to the press.

Once again I was confused. The press… I said slowly. Why the Hell would I want to talk to the press?

I bit my lip and was about to apologize for the language when, as if he had a sense of perfect timing, the front door opened and a beautifully resonant voice that was curiously familiar called out, Mom! I’m home!

Rachel’s face brightened. It seemed like hearing her son’s voice created such happiness that she could not help but glow. I only hoped that someday someone would look like that when I came home from a trip.

He’s here! You stay in the kitchen and I’ll go get him, she instructed as she ran out of the room to the front hall, leaving me to fidget nervously. No matter how many foster homes you have been privy to experience, you still get nervous when meeting members of your new family. Of course, it did not help that I knew the voice. I could not place it, but I knew it nonetheless. The only question was how much trouble I was going to get into.

A few moments later, Rachel entered the kitchen with a handsome young man behind her. He was about five foot ten with short blond hair and warm, gentle brown eyes. I felt an immediate physical attraction this gorgeous young man wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt and carrying a navy duffel bag.

My jaw dropped as I gawked openly at him. I felt like I knew him as well as I knew the notes his voice could carry so well. Max had talked so much about him that I felt that I knew him myself. Besides that, I had nurtured a teenage girl’s infatuation with him since the first time I had bought one of their albums. Combine the two and you have a massive crush on the boy and a hope just as big that the mess you are in will sort itself out so you can get together and maybe have a date or two.

Miraculously, Eric’s face also showed recognition. Gaia, I’m sure you know that Eric is in Odyssey. I saw you had all of their albums and I thought this would be a nice surprise for you, Rachel offered an explanation rather than an introduction.

My heart pounded so furiously I thought Eric could hear it. I panicked. Oh, shit! He knows. He knows! I thought irrationally, though no-one else had ever put the pieces together before. I saw him smile charmingly. Hello, Kendra.

Oh, he did know. I started to shake, unable to speak. It’s not often I have absolutely nothing to say. At length, I managed to croak, Oh, shit! I did the only thing I could think of; dodge around the table and run out the back door.

I heard Rachel follow me to the door and yell my assumed name after me. I vaulted over the white fence surrounding the back yard and fled as fast as possible.

*****

To Rachel, it seemed as if I had disappeared. She turned and closed the door. She returned to the table and sat down heavily. Eric, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I was sure you would get along.

Mom, don’t worry about it. Everyone’s having a hard time adjusting to this, her most of all. She’s just a little freaked out. Give her some time, Eric advised wisely. He picked up the untouched coffee mugs and placed one directly in front of Rachel before taking the other for himself.

I know. I just don’t understand what happened. I thought she loved the band. Suddenly, it sunk in that Eric had not called me by the name she knew. And why did you call her Kendra? You know her name is Gaia. Rachel asked.

Eric looked away and decided to ignore why I loved the band, wanting to be sure who I was before revealing the truth to anyone. She just struck me as a ‘Kendra’, that’s all. He stood and kissed his mothers cheek. I’ll just bring my stuff upstairs and I’ll be back.

He picked up his duffel bag and returned to the front hall to grab a suitcase. He climbed the stairs slowly, his progress hampered by his luggage and his thoughts alike.

He had mentioned to Max just the other day that he should dye his hair blond, rather than leave it his natural black colour. Now he knew for sure how Max would appear with blond hair. All he had to do was lay his eyes on his twin.

Is Max ever going to be thrilled! he thought happily. Although I had been stolen when we were about two years old, Max still missed me. In one of Max’s bleaker moods, he had confessed feeling as if he was not whole, having a large piece of himself removed with nothing to replace it.

Of course, I had just run away, but Eric was sure I would return and they could talk about it. Or he could call Max and our parents and they could come meet me for themselves.

He placed his bag in the room that adjoined the former guest room, now my room, by way of a bathroom. Before he rejoined Rachel downstairs, he placed a call to Max’s