This story takes place at the very end of ‘The End of the World’. Future Max has disappeared, but where did he go? NOTE: This is a story told from Tess’s point of view. If you aren’t a Tess fan you probably aren’t gonna like it. It’s a story that’s been lurking around in my head for a while. It seems such a shame - to have the amazing Future Max, all alone, and Tess, all alone.. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer – none of these characters belong to me, credit for their creation, inspiration etc going entirely to Katims, Metz and Co. (great job guys!)
Oh yes, some NC –17 action in the final scenes – see preview - (but no rude language).
Preview (from Chapter 8)
Max-from-the-Future. He is standing right in front of me. I can feel the heat rising from his body. He smells like – home, to me. I can feel him raise his hands to my head, to find the place where I got bumped. Again, the energy flows from his hands to my body, but this time there are images too.. once more I see the huge war machines descending and the shrapnel slice his arm and Max, not caring, as he races to Michael’s side, too late to help; I see him looking down at Liz from the Granolith chamber, seconds before he is transported away through time and space; I see, through his eyes, his waking in my bed that first morning. I see myself coming into the room, I can feel what he’s feeling, and amazingly, he’s happy to see me; and something more, something intangible that I can’t put my finger on yet.
He closes his eyes, lets his hands drop. The contact breaks. The pain in my wrist and my head has gone, but the ache in my heart is constant. I know he has expended a lot of energy in repairing my injuries. I can’t read the look in his eyes. ‘Tess..’
‘What?’
‘When I healed you – I got some images..’
‘Yeah, me too.’
‘I could feel – how you feel about me.’
Oh.
‘I never – really thought about your feelings, Tess. I was so wrapped up in..’
‘Liz.’
‘Yeah.’
‘It’s okay, Max, I know –‘
‘No, wait, you don’t. Not all of it. Liz is – was – a part of me. The human part, I think. But you’re something else, something very deep. That’s why I was always so scared of looking at how I really felt about you.’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but after soul-melding with him when I healed him, and when he healed me, things are beginning to fall into place. ‘ So what are you saying, Max?’ He doesn’t actually say anything. He puts his hand to my face, and gazes deep into my eyes, the way that I always dreamed he would. I can feel myself falling into him. For long moments we just breathe each other in, and then at last he kisses me and it’s as if all the stars were falling at once. The heat he generates inside me is unprecedented. It’s more than chemical. It’s metaphysical. I’ve never, ever felt anything like this before. He holds me close. My hands are exploring his back under the leather vest and tee shirt, his hands are exploring my body under my blue top. I am pulling him to me, all of me thirsty as I’ve never, ever been before, my lower body pressing against him, without my conscious thought. We slide on to the back seat of the jeep. The seats are hard under my back but I am barely aware of where I am, except that I am with Max, and he wants me. In the distance thunder rumbles, far off. Vieni la tormenta.. the storm is coming. He is as hungry for me as I am for him, and together we ease him out of the vest and tee shirt. The sight of his bare chest is enough to floor me, if I wasn’t already lying down.. we slide my tee shirt off, and he expertly unhooks my bra so that he can touch me, with hands and mouth. I never imagined it would feel so good, but just to be close to him, to be aware of his passion for me, his need, his desire, so closely matching my own..I am breathless. We have to pause to take off his boots, my strappy sandals, which are complex to undo, which leaves only his jeans and my skirt, which we swiftly dispatch. He runs his warm hand along the inside of my thigh, caressing me, as he kisses my mouth, my neck, my breasts, and all the while my hands are drinking in his amazing body, his hard muscles, the scars I will never be able to ask him about.. he lies on me, and I can feel him, hard, against me, and I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to have him love me. I have to touch him, I can’t – not touch him…. I am warm and waiting, and when he breaks from our kiss and looks into my eyes he knows that I am ready for him. I move to allow him to get closer, and then he moves into me, and oh, he is every good thing I ever, ever imagined. He moves in me, holding me hard to him. Max.. I can feel his body moving, his warm muscles working for my pleasure. Oh… You’re all I want, you’re all I need, you’re everything.. I am overwhelmed, a torrent, a flood, of passion, of desire fulfilled.. I cling to him hard, I cry out his name, amazed and breathless.. he moves within me, he cries out my name; he is completely beautiful.. We lie together, stunned and breathing hard, an aura of energy pulsing around us, a warm, embracing blue light..
The jeep is 6 ft from the desert floor. We laugh as we realise where our passion has taken us, and then the rain begins, sudden and heavy. Max uses his powers to bring the jeep back to earth – (although he and I are still floating in some distant galaxy). We dress quickly, getting soaking wet as we do. He gets the jeep back on to the road, and drives, not caring about the storm. He looks at me, my hair flat because of the rain, but I don’t feel cold. He puts the hood up and uses his powers to dry us.
‘Tess?’
‘Yes, Max?’
‘We’re going to a cabin in the desert. It’s a place we used to hide out..’ I’d forgotten that I’d asked him. So we’d be hiding out.. sounded good to me.
‘Tess?’
‘Yes Max?’
‘Have I told you how beautiful you are?’ I smile. Yes, I think he just did.
3 am. Fire trucks howl and sirens blare. Lights flash and strobe, blue and white, from the roofs of paramedic cars. A crowd has gathered outside the Crashdown Café. Two paramedics moving fast come out of the building, supporting a man in combat gear. Another man, similarly dressed, is stretchered out into a waiting ambulance. Phil Daily, reporter for the Local Network Roswell News channel stands in front of his camera, takes a breath, and begins.
‘News is just coming in of the mysterious disappearance of three Roswell teenagers, Liz Parker, and Max Evans and Tess Harding. Also missing is an as yet unidentified man. Emergency services were called out to reports of a freak lightening flash – perhaps the phenomenon of ball lightening – inside the Crashdown Café here in Roswell. Unconfirmed reports say that Dr Angelica Downey, the Emergency consultant at the Millington Hospital here in Roswell, is one of those being treated for shock. Onlookers seem unable to give any coherent reports of tonight’s events. It is believed that the owners of the café, Mr & Mrs Jeff Parker, were out of town for the night and are now being comforted by relatives. Ah, here’s the local law enforcement officer. Sheriff Valenti, can you tell us anything about what happened here tonight?’
The sheriff is pale and looks distraught. ‘No. I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it.. I mean, the investigation is on-going. We don’t have anything definite right now.’ He backs away.
‘Thank you sheriff. Well, we’ll be right here at the scene and updates will follow every hour on the hour, at Local Network Roswell News channel.’
I’m at my desk in my room (Kyle’s old room, which he never, ever lets me forget, annoying, bossy, brotherly Buddha-boy that he is..) – working, at the laptop. I’ve almost finished my Literature assignment. I just have to find that quote, and its references, from Elizabeth Barrett Browning to her friend..
‘I am writing to you, dearest Miss Blagden, at last, you see; though you must have excommunicated me before now as the most ungrateful of correspondents and friends..’ [Florence, May 1, 1851]. ‘ So she was busy composing her beautiful poetry. So she didn’t write when she should have. And she needs to know that her friends won’t forget her.. Maybe that’s the hardest thing to deal with in this human world; lack of appreciation. Or lack of communication. Or lack of understanding. It’s definitely a lack of something important.
Life can fill you with – philosophical thoughts, sometimes. I came to Roswell with my one-and-only-protector, Nasedo. There are times when I do actually miss him. From the time I was very small, he impressed on me that he wouldn’t always be around to take care of me (although even when he was supposed to be taking care of me he wasn’t always around).. I grew into my human life, into my human ‘destiny’ – ready to do my part as Nasedo had prepared me to – or tried to prepare me. The thing about the best laid plans (of mice and men, my dear) is that theory can be beautiful and perfect, theoretically anything is possible, but when you add human – or human/alien hybrid – passions and personalities into the mix, then boy, nothing is gong to work out the way you planned it, no matter how perfect the plan.
Sometimes it’s a burden to know the things you know when others don’t share the knowledge with you. Knowing that Max, or Zan as he used to be on Antar, was once a magnificent, brave, noble ( if only he’d known where his high moral ground, his extreme nobility would lead us..) He was the prince, the heir to a kingdom, who loved me at first sight and chose me to be his queen. When he refuses to remember this very vital historical fact – it is very hard sometimes. Most of the time. It is a life I recall as you would a favourite, earth-shatteringly beautiful movie, in full Technicolor sensurround, giant screen, the works.. when memories from Antar decide to assail my senses, I am temporarily lost. Lucky for me it happens usually when I’m alone, thinking. It’s like - a kind of micro-catatonia, to anyone around me, for a short time I see nothing, respond to no stimuli from the human world. This is because all my faculties, mental, spiritual, physical, are engaged in re-visiting Antar, re-visiting a world in which he loved me. To be absolutely clear about it; I mean love in the old fashioned Grand Passion sense of the word, the only sense of the word. I loved him, I hated him, I needed him more than I needed to breathe, and I was only alive when he was near me. And if I ever had cause to murder someone it would be him, but only because I loved him so deeply. Can anyone understand that? My need for him was more than elemental, it was deep, as deep as my own DNA; he was absorbed into the very cellular structure of me, and without him, I had no life. If you could paint a portrait of my soul – complete with lambent, silver tipped angel’s wings and singing birdies – Zan is the name you would find engraved there, in high Gothic letters, deeply etched, irremovable.
He knew this once. He said he felt the same. He said he loved me. I think that inside, part of him did love me; and that another part of him, however unconscious, lied. Men destined for greatness, men of terrible ambition and in possession of unthinkable power, the lives of millions resting in their hands, whose very existence depends on the decision he would make, are not like normal folk. They need to have the ability to duck and dive, to be open to the next opportunity, should it be necessary to their unique destiny. Zan had this ability in superabundance. Max is also such a man. He is a survivor. He just doesn’t know it yet.
The poetry book falls from my hands. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had a great love. I pick the book up from the floor. It has opened at ‘Sonnets from the Portuguese’ – this one touches my heart every time I read it. ‘How do I love thee.. let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach..’ Max.
Now. Here in Roswell it is a sultry night, thunderstorms looming high above us, making the air heavy and hot. This is when I hear him calling. Not anywhere you can physically, hear it, but somewhere inside. Not me, not Tess, I need you.. but a shaft of deep emotion, raw and hurt, his heart practically broken. I can see his eyes, dull with shock. I can feel his pain. It is as if someone has stuck an icy knife into his ribs, into my ribs, stifling my heart, taking away my ability to breathe, to function. I know that more than anything in the world, he needs someone to hold him. I need to keep it together. I know where he is. I grab my jacket and take off for the park.
It is dark. When I am out in the dark I am never afraid. Nobody could touch me and get away unscathed, and I think something in my aura alerts people to that. Anyway, my only concern is to get to him, to help make him better, to give him what he needs.. what I need. The floodlights are on. There is a man walking his dog. He doesn’t even notice me, I barely even notice him, although the dog is a Jack Russell, feisty and sweet.
This is the right path. Max! I can sense him there, ahead of me. I look at him on the bench, his bowed head, his slumped shoulders. He is a picture of dejection, and when he looks up at me the sadness I see in his eyes brings tears, instantly, to mine. I forget to breathe; but he needs me to be strong, so I am. He makes me strong.. everything in me is screaming, hold him, put your arms around him, pull him close and tell him everything will be all right.. but I look at his bowed head, and know that it wouldn’t be right, not at this moment. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No.’
‘Can I sit down?’
‘Sure.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No.’
I pause. ‘Do you want me to leave?’
He looks at me then. ‘No.’ Thank G*d! I sit by him. I put my hand tentatively to his shoulder (if only he knew, if only he remembered, what it does to me to – touch him). We sit for a while, and eventually, he moves in to me and lets me hold him, as I need to, my arms around him, my heart aching for his pain, my body howling like a wolf, Oh G*d, Max, I need you, I need you so much.. I need so much to love you. He doesn’t weep, he doesn’t speak. It is enough that he lets me hold him. For now.
Later he walks me home, or at least, back to the Valenti’s. Men can be so – unseeing – sometimes. Home, if I have one on this miserable planet, in this wide-open, empty universe, is with him. Will he ever see it? All of this is going through my head, and I look up to see that he has been gazing at me and no doubt, absorbing what has been going on behind my eyes. ‘You’re all alone in the universe too, aren’t you ? Poor Tess.’ He puts his warm hand to my cheek, comforting me now. The moment he touches my face I see, through his eyes, all that has happened tonight after he left me at the Crashdown and went to see Liz; how he took the Gomez tickets to her window, hoping to surprise her, and instead finding – Oh Lord! her in bed – naked – with Kyle. It was like being slapped hard in the face, the air being knocked from my lungs. I recoiled, gasping. ‘Oh Max, Oh my G*d..’ I can’t help it, I am weeping for him, for myself as well, maybe, at the thought of love lost, love not wanted, love that can twist you and torture you and hurt you until you don’t know if you have the strength to carry on. He scoops me up before I fall down. ‘Tess! I’m sorry, I never meant for you to see that..’ I can’t speak, so he just pulls me to him and that makes me cry even harder because this is where I need to be, but he only sees me as someone who needs to be helped, nothing more.
When I am calm, I turn and unlock the front door. Kyle will probably be asleep on the couch inside, so I whisper, ‘Are you all right?’ as Max whispers to me, ‘Will you be okay?’ The compassion I see in his clear eyes threatens to undo me again, so I back into the house. ‘Call me if you need anything, if you need to talk..’ He takes a step back, and nods in a way that I know means he won’t call. ‘Goodnight, Tess,’ he says, and is gone. For a long moment I watch the space where he has been, still sensing his presence, his solidity, his strength, his beauty, his sadness. I back into the house, where Kyle is on the couch, pretending to be asleep. I go to my room and close the door, wondering where all of this will lead.
Sleep, of course, is an impossibility.
School the next morning is a hazy recollection. I sat through my Cosmology class, knowing that Max was in the next classroom where she would be – Biology. Science is actually one of my best subjects, having an interest in such things, as you would, although Stephen Hawking’s amazing theories on the possibilities of inter-dimensional travel, even time travel, if only humans were able to produce the energy source powerful enough, wash right over my head this morning. The bell rings and we spill out into the corridor, where I see Liz approach Max. His back is to me. I can see from his body language that he is totally dejected, but trying to be strong. She speaks to him, in that breathy, puppy-dog way she has, as if nothing has happened. I can feel him trying to keep it together. He answers her, and walks away abruptly, before his strength fails him. How can she not know what she did to him, how can she not be aware that his heart is crumbling in front of her? I am aware that if she turns and looks at me I probably can’t be held responsible for what my alien reflexes might do to her, so I too turn abruptly away and walk out of the school. Some things are too much to bear, and watching a heartbroken Max, who further doesn’t want to talk to me, for the duration of a History class this afternoon, is asking more than is humanly or even alienly possible from this girl, so I leave.
Later, I am in my room, lying on the bed, listening to very loud music; Lifehouse, Vanessa Carlton.. Music is a magical thing, able to tune even the most restless, tumultuous heart to a more manageable level with its beauty and poetic emotions. And my heart has never, ever been so tormented.
The door opens (with the music turned up I haven’t heard him hammering). ‘Tess? Are you there?’ Jim Valenti. ‘You aren’t in school?’ I sit up on the bed, and prepare to pout. He hurries on. ‘That doesn’t matter. At least, I’ll talk to you about school later, young lady. Right now I need your help. You have to come with me. Alien business! Hurry!’
In spite of being the so-called alien capital of the USA, the Accident and Emergency Department of the Millington Hospital, Roswell New Mexico, was hardly a hotbed of activity even at the busiest time. Tourist season; hot weather, strangers with money to burn and vacations to enjoy could be capable of incredible stupidity. This week there had been a broken arm ( a Ferris wheel – a 50-year old dad standing up to wave to his kids and falling 6ft to the ground) – a couple of concussions – a fall from quad bike and another youngster who had hit his head on the side of the boat he was diving from. Fortunately his friends had hauled him out in time to prevent him breathing in too much water. And the usual cracked wrists and knees from skateboarding accidents. There was even one kid who’d managed to break a wrist getting trapped up a tree, where he’d gone to rescue his cat. Angelica Blacklock wasn’t bored, exactly. Her job as consultant of a busy Emergency department in a well-respected teaching hospital like this was always a challenge. It was just that the change in seasons, the hot Summer weather coming in, always brought on a kind of restless, heart-achey feeling deep inside, which she avoided thinking about, not being able, ever, to pinpoint its exact cause. She sighs. Some excitement, something interesting to happen – is that too much to ask for? She was heading for the coffee lounge when she heard the call come in to the nurse’s station speakerphone. It was Carl, one of the hospital porters. She speaks into the phone. ‘Carl, isn’t it your day off?’
‘Hi, Dr Blacklock. Yeah, it is, but this is an emergency. I’ve got a casualty in the car. We found him in the desert. He isn’t conscious. I’m bringing him in. ETA 10 minutes’. She briefly debated whether there was time to go and get the coffee, then decided probably not. She called to one of the staff nurses. ‘Lisa – we’ve got incoming. ETA 10 minutes. Is Room 6 ready? And could you get someone to bring me a coffee, please?’
The car screeches to a halt outside the ambulance doors of the ER. Angelica indicated to Adam, the other porter, to take the gurney out. Carl has already opened the back door of the car. His girlfriend, Sherylee gets out, and she watches as the boys lift the motionless figure out and lay him on the gurney. It is hot but they cover him with a light blanket and wheel him in. ‘In here, guys.’ Carl and Adam are good, kind-hearted guys. ‘Carl, where did you find him?’ Carl looks a little sheepish. ‘Well, me and Sherylee – we were out by the caves, you know, a picnic. Usually you don’t see nobody out there. He was just lyin’ there. I kinda looked him over. We didn’t find no ID so I called the sheriff. He says he’s on his way over. Never know, could be an alien or something.’ But he wasn’t laughing. Carl clunks the brake down on the gurney, and together they lift the patient as carefully as they can onto the bed in Room 6. Adam slides down the side of the cot. ‘Guess he won’t be goin’ anywhere for a while.’
‘Thanks boys.’ The porters leave as Jim Valenti pushes the curtain aside. He takes a look at the man on the bed and says, ‘Oh my G*d.’ He moves over to the patient and puts a hand to the young man’s forehead. ‘He’s burning up.’
‘Do you know who he is? What can you tell me about him, Jim?’ Angelica has never seen him so – concerned, so anxious. He hesitates for a long moment, then speaks. I’m going to tell you something you may not believe, but this man’s life may depend on it.’
‘He’s not – from around here.. ‘
‘Go on.’
I think - he may be an alien. That is, an alien/human hybrid. He – his body isn’t entirely human, but he really needs our help.’
‘Okay.’ This was becoming strange, and there is a lot she needs to know. Angelica moves closer to the patient. He is young – late twenties, early thirties. From the look of him he could have been in the desert for an indeterminate length of time. There wasn’t much sunburn, but his clothes – and skin – are very dirty and sandy, and he is almost certainly suffering from some degree of dehydration. He appears to be deeply unconscious. She checks his pupils. There is at least a response when she shines her light briefly into them. His pulse is – this can’t be right! Impossibly fast. She sticks a thermostrip in his forehead and within seconds the reading says 110. ‘Jim, this isn’t possible. He should be – dead – with a temperature this high.’
‘Yes, Angelica, but I just told you, he isn’t- exactly the same as you and me.’ She couldn’t understand, really, what Jim was trying to tell her. An alien/human hybrid? What was he talking about? She was a scientist, with an enquiring and she hoped open mind, but this was just too – incredible – to believe. She looked a little closer at the patient. ‘I need to examine him properly,’ she said, and beckoned to one of the nurses to help her take off the patient’s clothes. ‘We need to see if he has any injuries. I’m arranging a chest x ray, a CT of abdomen and head, and I’ll send bloods to the lab..’
‘Wait.’ Jim puts a hand on her arm. ‘Can you check the blood yourself? The fewer people who know about him the better.’ She nods. By now Lisa has removed the patient’s leather vest and dark tee shirt. She is untying his boots – that look like army issue, heavy and hard wearing – and Angelica notices that his pants are also leather. A motorbike accident, maybe? Jim seemed serious about the alien thing, though. Carefully, she examines the patient’s scalp, professionally running her fingers through the long, dark hair. She can find no sign of blood or bruising, no lumps or bumps externally to indicate an injury that could bring on such a deeply unconscious state. His eyes are closed and his breathing is low, and a little erratic. His face is not marked; his profile clear and strong. He’s probably quite a character when he’s awake, she thinks. She checks his arms and legs – he appears to be in excellent physical shape, toned and well-muscled, although his right arm has a fresh scar; also, across his ribs, his left thigh, bear scars that could be bullet wounds. But what kind of gun could inflict such scars? Could he be a soldier of some kind, a mercenary then? There are no signs of fractures or new wounds. ‘This is good so far. There don’t appear to be any broken bones. Jim, can I get a line in, just some fluid? He has to be very dehydrated. And what about something to try and bring down this fever?’
‘Absolutely not. We have no idea what effect any of these things could have on his system.’
‘Then what can I do, how can I help him?’
Jim paces, then turns. ‘I think I know someone who could help. I’ll be back. Soon.’ He leaves. Lisa has gone off to arrange the CT scan and the x rays. Angelica is alone with her patient. She contemplates him. He has long, dark hair, and a couple of days’ stubble. His mouth is – quite beautiful, she is surprised to find herself thinking. Lying there in a pale blue hospital gown, covered in a sheet, still and quiet, breathing barely perceptible, he could be sleeping. His profile is as pure as a child’s, she thinks. What stories can you tell us? How can we bring you back, what can I do to help you? There is something about him which is almost magical. Angelica shakes herself. Come on, she tells herself, you’re a scientist, not a doe-eyed teenager swooning over some mystery guy. My Romeo and Juliet days are long over, she tells herself sternly. She unwraps the sterile blood test dish, and takes blood for testing. She puts a small band-aid on his arm. ‘Sorry,’ she says gently. ‘At least you wouldn’t have felt that.’ Acting on an impulse she doesn’t really understand, she bathes his hot face with a cool cloth. She pulls a chair up to sit beside her mysterious stranger. She takes his hand so that he won’t be alone while they wait for the porters to take him for his scans and investigations.
Jim Valenti is driving like a madman, which he can get away with if the siren is going and he’s racing to an emergency, but he hasn’t told me where we’re going or what the emergency is. ‘Sheriff, are you going to use the siren?’
‘What? No. No.’
‘Then do we have to go so fast?’
He pauses, then says, ‘Sorry’ as he slows the car down from the 70 he was doing through the city streets. ‘Almost there.’
‘Almost where?’
‘Don’t be alarmed. The hospital.’
‘The hospital! Oh my G*d! Is somebody hurt? Who is it?’
We are approaching the A & E Department. He pulls the car over and awkwardly puts one of his hard hands onto mine. ‘I’m not sure, exactly, who it is. I know who I think it might be. But I want you to take a look. Maybe you can help him.’
We get out of the car and hurry through as the automatic doors clunk open. Hospitals always smell the same; disinfectant, old/new carpeting, sick people. There’s a kind of ambience about hospitals that always makes me very glad I’m not sick. Jim Valenti leads me through the department and stops one of the nurses, a dark-haired girl who looks about my age.
‘Lisa. Can we go in?’
‘Sure,. Sheriff. He’s back from CT and I think Angelica is there with him.’
‘Thanks.’ We move forward to one of the booths. ‘Angelica?’
‘Yes, the doctor.’ Okay, Sheriff, don’t tell me anything.
There is a cardboard sign written in red marker which says ‘Room 6.’ The curtains are fairly new, that kind of standard hospital-neutral-tasteless gray / sky blue with unidentifiable flowers sprigged about, and ‘Property of the Millington Hospital’ stamped along the seams, as if anyone would want to steal them. The Sheriff pulls back the curtain and ushers me in, closing the curtain again behind us as if he were in a James Bond movie. On the wall were the white, illuminated panels that doctors use to look at x-ray films. A redhead in a white medical coat and very good shoes stands in front of the bed, blocking our view of the person lying there. She is looking at one of the films. On the wall there is a full arm x ray, a leg, in black and white silhouette. She turns around to us. Her look towards me is enquiring, and definitely not friendly. ‘Hello Jim. Who’s this?’
‘This is Tess. I think she can help to ID our patient.’
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. ‘So far the results are all good. No fractures, no sign of internal injury. The CT head is fine – by human standards, anyway.’ Human standards? I was ready to scream, ‘What the h*ll’s going on ,’ although I was sure somebody was going to tell me something soon, when for the first time I got a look at the patient lying on the bed. Oh my G*d, Max.. but somehow not Max. I stepped toward him, then hesitated. ‘Can I..’ The doctor indicated that I could move closer. I didn’t dare touch him. He looked so still, so far away. Max – or someone so identical that my heart lurches with longing just to look at him. But this man is harder, somehow. Older. The realisation hits me with a bump that is almost physical. He looks like he hasn’t shaved for quite some time, and his arms under the hospital gown (gown?) bear scars that the Max I know doesn’t have. His hair is long, with a hint of grey at the temples. His breathing is very low, and this, for some reason, scares me. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ The Sheriff moves next to me.
‘Some guys found him out in the desert – you know, that place you go for picnics sometimes,’ – so he hadn’t told Dr Angelica everything, which was probably a mercy. ‘He was unconscious. We don’t know how long he was out there, or how he came to be like this.’ The lady doctor speaks to me. ‘Jim – seems to think you might be able to help him. Can you tell me anything about his physiognomy that could help? Can I give him some i/v fluid?’
‘No. There’s no way of knowing what might happen..’
‘Then is there anything we can do to help him? She sounded exasperated.
‘Yes. Yes, actually, there is. But I need to be alone with him.’ The lady doctor doesn’t like this much, but the Sheriff puts on his best law-enforcement manner and takes her by the arm. Giving me one last dubious look, she allows him to lead her away. ‘We’ll be right outside.’ Yeah, I just bet you will. I take a couple of deep breaths and picture, in my head, the bright star that is our home planet; shining and sparkling at the base of five stars in the V formation. Antar, is there anything stored in my mind or my heart that will help this man here? There are so many questions. He is so like Max! OK. I take both of his hands in mine (such hands! So strong, so warm, so lifeless..) and close my eyes. Immediately I am plunged into the ocean, an Antarian ocean. I can see myself launching from an unseen place into he water, feel the cold red saltiness envelop me. I can see my body going down, down. I don’t feel afraid, but am aware that I won’t be coming up any time soon. I look around for him. Are you there, I call, where are you, let me help you. But there is nothing. I open my eyes. I let go his hands. This isn’t good. He hasn’t stirred. I look again at the still figure before me, so quiet and unmoving in that terrible hospital gown. Had the lady doctor undressed him herself? B*itch! He is so incredibly beautiful. What is it about a particular face, a particular person, that can send your heart crazy mad every time you’re near them? And why was this happening to me now, near this person we know absolutely nothing about? He looks just like Max.. but how could that be?
‘Who are you?’ I say the words aloud. I have to try again. I open my fingers and run my hands through his hair, resting my palms by his temples. Being so close to him makes me breathe in, sharply. Focus, girl! I close my eyes again and try to get to where he is. Abruptly, I am back in the water, but this time I break the surface. I look around. I am just a few metres away from land. I call, hey, are you here? Then I see him, a few feet away. He is floating on his back, oblivious. I grab him around the chest and swim back with him to the shore. As soon as I have dragged him on to land he begins to cough and wake up. I help him to sit. I watch him take in his surroundings. He is so Zan. This man is a warrior. My heart jumps. He focuses on me. ‘Tess?’
Suddenly I am back in the hospital room. The sheriff has pulled me away from the patient as the doctor rushes to him. She tries to sit him up, but he has slipped back into unconsciousness. I sit down, shaken. ‘What happened?’ demands the doctor.
I am so mad I can hardly speak. ‘What happened? Why did you come in! I – I made contact with him..’
‘So why isn’t he awake?’
‘I need more time.’
Jim Valenti looks at me, shattered as I am, and says, ‘Angelica, I want to take them both home. It isn’t safe here.’
She starts to protest, but he is adamant. ‘Now.’
Later, the patient is installed in my bed – rather than the Sheriff’s – there are only two bedrooms in the house. I have dressed him in a clean plain tee shirt and pants of Kyle’s – which won’t please Kyle when he finds out, but what the h*ll. The Sheriff stands at the door. ‘What do we do now? Do you want me to get the others?’
Something in me said no, not yet. ‘I think we should try to find out a bit more about him before..’
‘What, will you try that mind-meld thing again?’
‘I – I was getting through to him, when we were – he was awake, he spoke to me.’ He looks dubious. ‘Well, okay then, if you’re sure.’
‘I’m not certain of anything, but I know that I need to try again.’ He nods and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him. I sit on the bed. The patient – Max, whoever he is – his breathing seems easier, somehow. His physicality, his closeness, is almost making me forget my purpose, but I try and focus. I put my hands on either side of his head once more. I close my eyes. I call out to him, come on, let me in, where are you? And abruptly, I am inside his head. It is – just darkness. I can sense that he is not – physically hurt. He is drained and exhausted, and deep, deep in shock. He has withdrawn his spirit. I send my warmth into the places that need to be healed, his heart, his mind. He has endured so much! Come to me, come back, I plead, we need you to be here. Wake up, please.. he opens his eyes with a gasp, and puts his hand over mine. We are still inside his head.. there is a flash of light and we are – where?
This time it’s different. It’s not the deep red ocean or the shore we washed up on before, but a black, velvety dark, the deep enclosing dark of outer space, of universes in motion . I can sense that we are not on Earth, but approaching it. We are together; he has both my hands in his. He looks at me and smiles that Max smile, and suddenly I know I am safe.
I look up and we’ve switched again, I’m in a memory ball; sights, sounds, overwhelming me with their intensity. It is a dreadful battle of some kind. It’s his memory, I realise, it isn’t real, but I’m being dragged into it, re-living it somehow with him, yet through his eyes. I can feel what he’s feeling. It is a terrible day; there have been heavy casualties, heavy losses. He has a dreadful burden of responsibility. He commands the army that are currently being wiped out mercilessly. The Enemy are very, very strong, and I can sense the pain. Far off I can hear yells and more pitifully, whimpering cries like animals that have been hurt, but I know they aren’t animals crying. I can smell the smoke and blood. We are sheltering in the doorway of a ruined building. He crouches beside me, shielding me with his body. There is no fear in him, not for his own life, but for the lives of those he loves. There are very large war machines rumbling towards us on tracks like army tanks. They are – oh my G*d – firing powerful lasers at us. My companion is hit by a piece of shrapnel, he gets hit on the arm. He is bleeding, but barely seems to notice it. We scramble, trying to get out of range. I can see Michael a few feet away. He yells, ‘Michael, move, NOW!’ but agonisingly, he is too late, and we watch, helpless, as Michael is sliced down by a laser. The machines plough on, still scanning for life to destroy, but away from us now. He runs to Michael and holds his broken body in his arms. He is completely distraught. ‘They’ve all gone now, we’re the last ones left, Oh G*d..’
I put my hand helplessly on his arm. He doesn’t weep. I watch as he gets a tight grip on his feelings, burying them deep within himself. Some things don’t change, then. So much pain…
Abruptly the scene changes and we are in the Granolith chamber. They are being pursued. I watch him run in with Liz, who is older, different. I hear her tell him he has to go, they have to try and alter the time line in a desperate attempt to stop the carnage. I watch him drawn into the heart of the Granolith, and then as he disappears into the Cosmos.
The next scene is, strangely, Liz’s bathroom. My companion is there, listening, as Liz and Kyle talk, naked in her bed. I watch his face as my Max comes to the window and leaves, broken-hearted. I step forward and put my arms around him, sending my love to him, trying to give some comfort for the dreadful things his destiny has made him do. He has lost everything he ever loved, and sacrificed the last thing he had left. Some pieces are falling into place, then, but the more I learn about this man the more questions he raises. There is so much I want to learn about him, so much I need to know. But at least now I know who he is. Max. From the future.
I open my eyes. He opens his. He looks at me and the look in his eyes reminds me so heartbreakingly of my Zan that I have to bite my lip to get a grip on my feelings. I move away from him, but he finds my hands with his, which is fine, because I don’t really want to stop touching him yet. I need to know that he’s OK. ‘Tess’ he says again. ‘You healed me.’ There is a pause. ‘Can you tell me where I am? And - when - I am?’
‘Sure. But are you thirsty?’ He nods. I pour him a glass of water, which he drinks quickly. I pour him another, and tell him what he wants to know. ‘So I’m back in Roswell, and I’ve been gone for – a day?’
‘If you were here the night of – Max and Liz’s fight – then yes, you’ve been gone for a day. Have you any idea how you got to be out in the desert?’
‘No. After I left Liz – I’d assumed I would just – disappear.’
‘Disappear? You mean travel back to your own time?’
‘No.’
‘Where, then?’ Realisation hits me. ‘Oh my G*d. You thought you were supposed to die?’ He won’t look at me. ‘I’m not entirely sure why I’m still here.’
‘Maybe you’re still needed. Maybe you aren’t meant to leave yet.’
‘Maybe.’ He doesn’t sound convinced.
‘We’ll work it out. You should rest.’
I stand up to leave. He stops me. ‘Wait. I have to tell you something. I mustn’t come into contact with – my other self. It could be extremely dangerous.’
‘Okay. I’ll tell the sheriff.’
‘Tess. Thank you. For healing me.’ For just a moment I cannot speak, so I nod, and open the door. ‘Goodnight Max.’ I leave.
The Sheriff is sitting in front of the television, with his feet up. He jumps up when I come into the room. ‘So how is he? Is he awake yet?’ I give him the quick version, that the guy in the next room is Max-from-the-future, come back to save the g*ddamn planet. ‘He says he shouldn’t be back here. We need to try and find out what’s going on.’
‘What’s going on about what?’ Kyle. ‘Dad. More ‘alien business’?’ His tone is fed up, and he comes into the room with an air of resignation. There is a knock at the door. The Sheriff answers it and there is the lady doctor. ‘Jim.’ She looks awkward, as well she might. ‘I’ve brought his clothes – you left in such a hurry.’
‘Of course, come in.’ He glances at Kyle. ‘It’s a long story, son.’
The lady doctor speaks. ‘Can I see him?’ Boy, she doesn’t waste any time. ‘I don’t think so,’ I tell her. ‘He’s trying to get some rest.’
‘I – really must insist. He’s awake then? I need to know how he is. Jim, in my professional opinion you should have left him at the hospital.’
‘Left who at the hospital?’ No one has filled Kyle in yet.. I’m not sure if I want to talk to him at all. But he deserves, perhaps, an explanation. ‘Kyle, there is someone here, It’s Max, but not from our time..’
‘Oh my G*d, there are two of them? He must be that dude from last night..’
The Sheriff looks at his son. ‘What do you know about this?’
‘Liz told me..’ he gets that look on his face that tells me there’s something he doesn’t want to tell me.. but I already know what it is. The thing he doesn’t want to tell me. I can’t stop myself. ‘Yeah, last night..’ I slap him on the face. ‘You slut, you should be ashamed of yourself..’
‘What the h*ll’s going on here?’ The Sheriff steps in and Kyle backs off, rubbing his cheek. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
‘Yeah, so what am I supposed to think, huh Kyle?’
The Sheriff says, I think Angelica should take a look at - hmm – Max – as she’s come all this way.’ I am trying very hard not to pout. ‘Well, I’m coming with you.’ Lady doctor gives me a hard look. All of my instincts are yelling, don’t let her near him, there’s some bad medicine going on here. ‘You have some questions. I might be able to help,’ – him, not you, b*tch.
‘Tess, I think you should wait outside’, says the Sheriff, moving her into the room and closing the door. Yeah. Right. I don’t think I can ever, ever remember being so mad. I can feel my power crackling and buzzing around me, an aura of pink building to red.. I take a deep breath and let it out. I consciously step down from that dangerous place. Then I spot Kyle. He’s been watching me, and doesn’t look happy. He’s lurking by the door, trying to make a quick getaway. ‘Not so fast, Buddha boy. I need you to tell me everything..’
I got a few hours sleep – after all, I’d had none the night before that. The Sheriff told Kyle to go and stay at his buddy Mark’s for the night so that I could have the couch. I woke at 5 am, that cold, grey time of the morning before the world wakes up and you turn over and know in your bones that you aren’t going to get to sleep again. Coffee, then. The tiles in the kitchen floor are cold under my bare feet. I don’t feel too cold, though. I’m wearing my long ‘Care Bears’ tee shirt that Kyle bought as a joke for my birthday. I put the coffee on to start, and open the curtains so that I can watch the sky grow lighter over the town. I was longing to look in on – Max-from-the-future – maybe I should just think of him as Max 2 – but after all he’d been through I didn’t want to disturb him. Last night, the Sheriff had let me go in and sit with - Max - for an hour or so after the lady doctor left . I thought of how he looked as he slept; his colour was a little better. He hadn’t eaten anything yet, though, which worried me a little (and the lady doctor, it seemed.) He lay there in – my bed – covered with my best Aztec-blue sheets and the quilt I had made when I first came to live at the Valenti’s – the sheriff joked that it was for my ‘bottom drawer’, an heirloom for when I got married. Yeah, right, Sheriff. .
When I was sure he was fast asleep, I tidied away some of my personal things – a couple of tops waiting to be ironed, underwear that I tossed into the wash. I put five pairs of shoes from under the chair into the closet (I mean, where did all these shoes come from?) I found my journal, but not my secret, favourite picture of my Max that I keep in it). I hid it way, way down in my underwear drawer. I closed it quietly and went over to the bed. Gently as I could, I put my hand on his forehead. He felt cooler – lady doc said we should keep an eye on his temperature (yeah, fat lot she knows about our physiognomy). He felt warm, warmer than a human, but normal for us. He stirred slightly, as if a bad dream had crossed his path, and I found myself making soothing sounds, ‘Ssh, it’s okay, I’m here..’ I took his hand and held it, lightly, not enough to disturb him, and watched him again. I could look at him forever.. it was my first chance to look at him properly, on the outside, that is. He is definitely an older Max. He has more lines on his face, and more of a tan. His hair is thick and lustrous as ever but long – I like it like that, I find, it makes him look – more free, somehow, more creative; more himself. More like the old, Antarian Zan who used to love me.. my heart jumps to my throat. On Antar, we’d never had the chance to grow to this age together. So different, and yet still the same. That scar on his arm – I know, I saw how he got it. My heart contracts to think of the suffering he has endured. Look at him now, sleeping in my bed. By default. For so long, I would have given anything to have Max sleeping in my bed.. but this. There are still so many questions. I listen to him breathing. It seems like such a privilege, just to be near him. His eyelashes are still as impossibly dark and long, like a child’s. I’d always loved his nose, and the line of his jaw is so pure. His mouth – is so very beautiful. My hand has moved, involuntarily, to touch his lips, but I stop before I reach him.. I still don’t want to wake him. Instead, I kiss his forehead very, very gently, and take my place back on the chair, until I fall asleep too.
I open the kitchen cupboard to get some cups out. A noise behind me makes me look around. There he is, in the doorway. His tee shirt is rumpled, his hair is messy. He looks completely adorable. Words fail me…’Hi.’
‘Hi’ he says, his voice husky with sleepiness.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Better.’
‘Coffee?’ he nods. Milk –no, sugar, yes.
‘That’s your room?’
‘Yes.’ Do I need to feel embarrassed here? He gives me a half-smile, picking up my thought. ‘It smells like a girl’s room, you know, perfume..’
‘Oh. Yeah. ‘
‘So you’re at school?’
‘Yes. I don’t need to get ready yet..’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘No’. (I blush for feeling awkward around him). ‘The Sheriff will be up soon.’
‘Yeah. Do you want to talk? Before he gets up?’
He leads the way to my room. He has opened the curtains and the window wide. A breeze blows in, softly, fragranced from the desert; hot, arid places, serene and kind, somehow; a place for dreaming, a place for – wishing. I love the desert. He has, I notice, pulled up the bed covers. He sits on the bed. I sit on the chair. I am a little closer to him than is comfortable, but I am unwilling, somehow, to move. He begins. ‘I told you – I wasn’t sure why I was back.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve thought about it, and maybe I have the reason now.’ I wait for him to continue. He looks up at me, but I can’t read the look in his eyes. ‘I think maybe you’re the reason, Tess.’
I have no way of understanding what he could mean. ‘Me?’
‘When I came back before – it was to try and persuade Liz to – give Max up’.
‘I don’t understand..’
‘It was to try and make you stay in Roswell. Because 14 years from now, when our enemies attack, we weren’t able to defeat them. Without you, Tess, we weren’t a complete unit. Without your powers, we didn’t stand a chance. You saw – some of what happened, I know you did. You watched Michael die..’
‘Yes. Yes, I did. But how was Liz giving Max up – supposed to make me stay?’
‘We – in 2014’ (it sounded so strange to hear him say it) ‘thought that if they separated, then you and – Max – would get together.’
‘Oh.’ Something clicked into place in my mind. ‘Oh my G*d. But that didn’t happen, did it? Because if it did, the future would be changed and you wouldn’t still be here, would you?’
‘No. Tess, they need you.’
‘I wasn’t planning to leave Roswell.’
‘Yes, but you do. You leave. I know you care about him.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
‘I found this under your pillow.’ Oh no, my favourite secret Max picture.. this was not good. ‘That’s private!’
‘Tess, I’m sorry. So much depends on this.’
‘I can’t think about this now.. I’m sorry’. I leave the room. The only place I can go is the kitchen or the living room, as the Sheriff is up. I can hear him splashing about in the bathroom. There is nowhere for me to take myself or my feelings. He’s just told me that even after intervention from the future, nothing can separate Max and Liz… If I hadn’t thought of leaving Roswell before.. Oh G*d, what am I going to do? I open the front door, and run outside.
I get a little way down the road before I realise that I haven’t even got any shoes on. ‘Wait, Tess, come back, please.’ It is Max 2. He catches up to me, and takes my arm, pulling me towards him. ‘Don’t go, Tess, please, where were you going?’
‘I – don’t know. I don’t know anything any more. Please. Leave me alone.’ That famous compassion is still there, it seems, because he lifts my chin to look into his eyes and his kindness is just – more than I can bear right now. I resist him, pushing him away because I don’t want him to see me like this, don’t want him to touch me; but he pulls me back and holds me, hard, for what feels like a long time.
‘Look at me, Tess.’ I am trying hard not to cry in front of him, and determined to be brave. Courageous Tess, that’s me. I look up into those eyes that are the eyes of the man I love, who doesn’t want me, will never want me. And I have to get on with it, I have to find a reason for being.. he touches my face with his warm hand, and suddenly I know that he can feel all that I’m feeling, and his pain at hurting me washes over me for a brief moment. So he does care. Somehow that’s better. He takes my hand, and leads me back into the house.
The Sheriff is there in his robe ( that horrible, prehistoric red tartan thing I can’t persuade him to throw away). ‘Hey,’ he says, ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ we both say at the same time. I step away from Max 2, into the house. ‘I have to get ready. I need to get some things from my room.’ I shower and dress in the bathroom, then get my bag ready for school. The sheriff has his jacket on and is ready to go to work. ‘Listen’ he says to Max 2, ‘It may not be a good idea for you to stay here. I need to figure out somewhere for you to go – you getting to the hospital like that could be dangerous for you.’
‘It’s okay, Sheriff, I have somewhere to go. It’s a place just outside town. We – I used to go there a long time ago.’ Oh no, he can’t go off on his own.. alarmed, I speak. ‘But we need to keep in touch with you. Take my cell phone.’
‘Thanks, Tess.’ The way he says my name makes me catch my breath, for a moment. ‘I have to go to school.’ The sheriff has been turning something over in his mind. ‘What about the others? We should tell them.’
‘I should have thought of that’. Max 2 looks worried. ‘I can’t come into contact with my – younger self. The consequences could be very serious. ‘
‘But what about Max? Even though you can’t – what, be in the same room together, he needs to know what’s going on.’
‘Yes, he does. He can be in the next room, with the door open. Then he can hear..’
‘Oh.’ The Sheriff pauses. ‘We can still gather the others together. What about the UFO Center tonight?’
I get home after another invigorating day at Roswell High. The guys all know about the meeting, and Maria and Isabel separately asked me, in hushed voices, what it was about. I just told them they’d find out later.
The house is empty.
I check everywhere; no Kyle, no Sheriff. No Max 2.. I stand at the door of my room. The imprint of his head is still on my pillows. I lie down, trying to get a sense of – who? My Max, who is never going to want me, or this warrior from the future? It was all so hopeless. I couldn’t even cry..
OK. Life must go on, right? I decided that I’d wait for the Sheriff to get home. A little later, I’m working on another literature assignment. Compare and contrast the styles of a male and female poet writing about WW2. I love poetry, although at school they probably wouldn’t have me down as a romantic. Anyway, that would never fit in with my cool image, would it? So I read the first poem, and Lord, why did they have to choose this one?
Are you forgotten? Yes, I think you are,
forgotten with most other lovely things.
since but a stifled echo, faint and far,
is all distracted recollection brings.
For busy nothings have obsessed my days,
crowding the private places of my mind,
and every eager, starving sense decays
in seeking vainly where it does not find.
But when the tedious, empty clamour dies,
and Sleep, your pity-laden messenger,
stoops with her lips upon my closing eyes,
and Night’s dark players make their entrance where
the shadowy stage of dreams is dimly set,
then I remember – for how should I forget?
(Richard Elwes, 1901 – 1968)
Oh Max, Max! I wish I could forget you. I wish so much that my poor heart could forget everything about you.. the way you smile, the scent of you, the way your shoulders move when you turn around.. your hands, your voice, your mouth, your eyes.. Oh Lord..
Later, I’m making dinner. Yes, gender stereotypes operate big-time in the Valenti household, and with these two guys if you want anything healthier than a microwave TV dinner you have to arrange it yourself. It seemed that Kyle was keeping a low profile – he’d called, briefly, earlier on, to say that he was staying on at Mark’s, which was fine with me. The Sheriff comes in to the kitchen. ‘Oh Hi, Tess. That smells good.’ He goes over to the stove and stirs one of the saucepans.
‘It’s just pasta and chicken, and home-made sauce with mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes. That’s all we had in the cupboard. Oh, and salad.’ Cooking kind of soothes me when I need soothing.
‘Mmm.’ He gets a look at me. ‘Hey, what’s up, have you been crying?’
‘No. I’m fine. Where is he?’
‘Who?’
Who? I give him a hard look. I’m not in the mood for games.
‘Oh, you mean the Other Max. He’s at Angelica’s.’ I can’t believe this. ‘The doctor? You’re kidding me!’
‘She came around after you went to school . She has a big place, just outside town. It seemed like a good idea.’
‘Are you out of your mind? Do you know anything about this woman? How do you know you can trust her?’
‘Calm down. Tess. I know you’re a – little possessive – where Max – both of them – is, are, concerned..’
‘I am not! I just have a really, really bad feeling about this woman.’ He doesn’t speak, disconcerted as ever by feminine emotions. ‘Look, he’ll be all right, I’m sure,’ he mumbles.
‘Well, I’m not so sure. He’s just been bounced around the fabric of space-time to try and save this sorry-assed planet, why I don’t know, I mean, they’ve never done anything for him except try to kill him. You haven’t forgotten the White Room, have you Sheriff? What if she’s with the FBI?’
‘Look, you can see him. I’ll take you there.’
(Huffily) ‘Thank you.’
‘Um – could we eat first?’
Angelica has taken the early shift at the hospital and is home late afternoon. She slams the car boot shut and opens the back door to the house that leads directly into the kitchen, arms full with bags, groceries and other things, and a bottle of very good champagne. She is planning to make dinner, and relax; to try and draw him out a little. There are so many questions she wants answered. Also she’s been waiting all day for the chance to see him, to talk to him without anyone else around. She dumps the bags on the table, and is heading for the refrigerator with the champagne with he appears in the doorway.
‘Hi’ she says, ‘how are you feeling?’ He looks better. He’s in his own worn charcoal grey tee, that leather vest and the leather trousers.
‘People keep asking me that! I slept some more. I feel – better. Can I help with anything?’
‘No, I’m just putting away the groceries. I thought I’d make chicken and salad – it’s a secret recipe my grandma gave me, garlic and herbs. I hope you’ll like it. Oh, you aren’t vegetarian, are you?’
He is amused. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘The wine should be chilled by the time the food’s ready.’
‘Thanks, but I don’t drink.’
‘Oh?’
‘It just – doesn’t agree with me.’
She remembers something. ‘ I stopped at the Mall on my way home, I hope you don’t mind. I got some clothes for you. I had to guess the size.’ She hands him the bags. He takes the items out; a selection of Calvin Klein tee shirts in white, gray, black, two pairs of jeans, navy and blue, socks and – boxers. He looks – as if he’s blushing.
‘They look great. Thank you.’
‘That’s okay.’ There is an awkward silence. ‘You can make the salad while I do the marinade.’
‘Aren’t you afraid I might find out the secret family recipe?’
‘Guess I’ll just have to trust you.’ She smiles.
Angelica and Max 2 are in the kitchen. They have eaten dinner. She is washing the dishes while he dries them, making a neat pile on the side. A car pulls up outside. Angelica looks out of the window. ‘It’s Jim. And that girl.’
‘Which girl?’ He looks out of the window. ‘Ah, Tess.’
Angelica has opened the door and let them in. The Sheriff looks a little embarrassed. ‘Doctor – Angelica – I hope you don’t mind, Tess just wanted to see that – he was – see how he was doing.’
‘Well, he’s just fine.’ Angelica looks at Tess, and the girl’s look is defiant, defensive. What is it with her? Why is she doing the guard–dog thing with this guy?
Max 2 watches Tess come into the kitchen. He looks at her pale, sad face, and he goes to her. He holds her shoulders and kisses her cheek. ‘Hi Tess. Come to check up on me?’
‘You’re okay, right?’
‘Yes. I’m feeling much better.’
‘We came to pick you up for the meeting. The others will be waiting for us.’
‘Meeting?’ Angelica wasn’t expecting this.
‘Yeah, some old friends. They have a lot to talk about. Thanks Angelica. We’ll bring him back later, if that’s OK.’ Jim Valenti moves towards the door. Max 2 and Tess follow.
Okay, so it was a little embarrassing to find the doctor lady and Max 2 playing house. I can’t explain it, I just have this bad, bad feeling deep in my stomach when I think about her. I do think the Sheriff was a little off the mark there, I mean, jealous, me? Why would I be jealous of a woman her age, just because she has a big house, amazing designer clothes and obviously the hots for Max 2? The whole idea is ridiculous. I hope I can persuade him not to go back there, though.
The drive from her house back to town takes about 20 minutes. I’d got into the back of the car (‘First time in the back of a squad car, Tess’ the Sheriff had joked). I was surprised when Max 2 got in beside me, just as I’d been surprised when he kissed my cheek at the doctor’s house. He sat beside me and for a moment I thought he was going to take my hand, but he didn’t. He just turned and smiled at me and briefly, all the lights went on in my heart, and I felt less afraid. I’m not a fearful person, I can look after myself, I’ve been doing it for a long time…. I have powers, I have strong instincts about people. But when there is someone that you care about, someone that you love more than anything else, beyond reason, beyond rational thought, suddenly the stakes are different, they’re much higher. Loving someone makes you vulnerable in ways I’d never imagined. I realised that for the first time in my life, I had something to lose. Max. I mean, I knew that part of him was already lost to me. His heart was with Liz. My heart, of course, is a different matter. I’ve never loved or wanted anyone but him, and Max never understood truly how I felt about him. Or maybe he never let himself understand.
Zan was my Love from before the beginning of time. To be without him leaves an empty place deep inside me that nobody else can ever, ever fill. Max is my home on this planet, on any planet. I need him.
He doesn’t need me. Fine.
Being near this Warrior, this future Max, has made it all come flooding back to me. How I loved him. How I love him still. I realise now that if there is anything I can do, ever, to help him, to keep him alive, then I’ll do it, no matter what it costs. There’s no way I can ever let anything happen to him, whether he loves me or not.
We park the car in front of the UFO Center. Max 2 tells the Sheriff to go on inside. He turns to me. ‘Tess, I need to ask you a favour. It’s very important.’ So there was an ulterior motive for sitting next to me in the car. Call me cynical, but I was getting the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to like what was coming. I glanced at him, and then away, looking different as he did in those Calvin Klein jeans and black tee shirt that no doubt, the lady doc had bought for him. He’d kept his leather vest, though.
I waited for him to continue.
‘I need you to talk to Max, to explain what’s happening.’
I knew it. ‘No way. Absolutely no way.’ This is so hard. ‘I don’t think –‘
‘Tess please. There’s no one else. You’re the only one that knows the whole story.’
‘Shouldn’t Liz be doing this?’
‘There may not be time to talk her round.’
‘What do you mean?
‘Tess, I’m sorry. I can’t go into that now.’
Oh G*d. Still saving the g*oddamn planet. And if this works, Max 2 disappears into the ether. ‘You’re asking me to change things, and if I do, you die? How can you ask me to do that?’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘How about if I leave Roswell today, never come back; at least you won’t…. ’
‘There’s more at stake that this, more than just individual lives, don’t you understand?’ He takes my hands in his and as soon as he touches me I see it all, the death, the pain, the destruction. I see his mission and realise how vital he is to the survival of the planet. But something else hits me like a freezing wind; how can I live in a world that doesn’t have him in it? I catch my breath. He will give up everything to save them, and he’s asking me to do the same. I look at him, and when he gazes at me, I know he is aware of all that I’m feeling, and that now at last I understand it . He knows that I will do whatever he asks me to, no matter how much it could hurt me.
‘Thank you.’ He says, and kisses me lightly on the mouth. ‘I’ve asked the Sheriff to take Max into the back room.’
We go in. The guys sit around, on benches, Michael leaning on the edge of the table. Alex, Liz and Maria and Isabel are all there. There is general amazement when
Max 2 strides down the stairs. He stands by Jim Valenti. For a moment, he catches my eye. His look is like a caress, to soothe, to encourage me. I carry on through to the back room, where Max is waiting to be told the truth, at last. Consoles flash, some screens showing statistical date, matrix-style, others with pictures of radio telescope and satellite maps of the universe. The parts of the universe known to Earth technology, that is. He is sitting on the edge of Brody’s desk. He is wearing that old leather jacket of his, black jeans, his favourite boots, a dark shirt. He looks – he will always be amazing to me, yet comparing him (as I know I shouldn’t) to his future self, to the man he could become – he seems suddenly young and vulnerable. I realise, with a start of surprise, that I feel a kind of distance between us. Before, loving him as I did, I’d always felt a connection with him. Perhaps it had just been my need for him that made me feel that.. but something has changed. I still loved him, would probably always love him. It’s just that I was somehow stronger now. I knew what I had to do. I would tell him why Liz arranged for him to see Kyle in bed with her. I would tell him what he needs to know in order to forgive her, and fulfil his destiny, which was, after all, to be with her. Part of me still yelled, no, it makes no sense, but the part of me that loves him is absolutely sure that his happiness is the most important thing of all. He needs to be strong to save the world, this world, and many others. So I got him to sit in a chair and told him all that I had seen when I healed Max 2. I explained to him that in the future, they had hoped desperately that if they got Max and me together they could somehow avert the war to end all wars; that they could save the lives of those they loved.
Somehow my future happiness seemed a small price to pay. It was only what Max 2 had asked Liz to do two nights ago. But still a small, hurt part of me says, yeah, but at least now she can be with the man she loves. I finish my story, and Max is dumbfounded, amazement and relief flooding his face. ‘I can’t believe it. I knew something was up, but she wouldn’t tell me.’
‘He made her promise not to.’
‘I have to go to her.’ He stands up. The door opens, and Liz is there. ‘Max’ she says. ‘We should go out the back way.’ Then he remembers me. ‘Thank you, Tess, thank you so much.’ Liz looks at me and smiles. They leave.
I am somehow glad he didn’t hug me or touch me at all to say thank you, because I think that might really have been too hard to bear. I sit on the chair where he was, and put my head in my hands, still assimilating what I just did. My life is over.
It sounds like the party is over outside.