Those Left Behind II:

Finding Maria

 

 

It was week forty-four of the year. Michael swore under his breath. What the hell was that damn code again? Letter R, so that meant the second R they chose, Reno, Nevada, Locker 5D.

 

Reno was a large enough town to get lost in. This fact made it easier to melt into the crowds of gamblers and other shady characters. Michael watched the bus station for a while. The lockers were in a back area near the restrooms. The entire place was crowded and it smelled of manufactured air. Another hour,  and it should be safe.

 

He tried to rest, to calm down. He couldn’t. He had spent so many nights avoiding sleep, avoiding the dreams and nightmares that plagued him. Now he regretted it.

 

Maria. It had been his connection to Maria. He needed that connection back to help him find her. So he would be able to think like she thinks. Normally, that very thought would have sent him into a bout of semi-hysterical laughing. Think like Maria? Damn. Where are you? Maria, where are you?

 

The letters and presents weighed heavily in his backpack. He was finding it hard to feel good about delivering them. None of them deserved anything. Especially from those they had left behind.

 

Michael couldn’t get that out of his mind. He and Isabel were the most to blame, but the others should have protested. They should have used that ‘great’ intellect they tossed about boastfully and with pride, and realized that anyone associated with them would be a target. There had been clear warnings. Pierce had attempted to take Alex right after his admittance to the group. Jesse had been taken by FBI Agent Burns, whom he later unwillingly killed. Imagination. They hadn’t thought of the possibilities because they lacked imagination.

 

Maria had once told him that the lack of imagination was where mistakes originated. First you stop imagining all the possibilities, and then suddenly things you never conceived of begin to happen. Whose fault would it be? It was important to be able to look at all possibilities, like playing chess.

 

Maria was excellent at that. She was such a hyperactive worrier; she had the most vivid and dramatic thoughts running through her mind at all times. She was the one who had told Liz that Topolsky was an agent, a special agent searching for aliens. Liz took that scenario to the trailer park where he lived with Hank, to warn him. He had thanked her for that, and felt a small amount of gratitude, but the credit actually belonged to Maria. It was her imagination that fretted out the possibility. No one ever accused Liz Parker of an over abundance of imagination. But that wacky Maria girl had it running in her blood like an unstoppable virus.

 

He wanted her back. He needed her back. Max was right, and god, he hated that! Maria had been left behind because of his pride. He hadn’t forgiven her, and it separated her from the rest. She had left him, wanted out of the alien vortex. He had paid her back in kind. She wanted out, so fine, he had made sure she stayed out. And she had been so very right. She had been right to fear where her connection with the aliens was heading, right to want something safe in her life. She had instinctually known that whatever happened, no matter how hard she tried to have something of her own, she would have to give it up for him. His alien life was always bigger, always more important.

 

All this time, a year later, he was only now beginning to understand what she had been saying to him that day. She loved him, too much. That she would lay down her life and dreams, everything for him. Let him ignore her. Risk her life for him. So that one day she would awaken as a woman with no dreams, living vicariously through him. She would never be anything but a shadow behind him. She was trying to find herself, a place she could be strong on her own.

 

It had hurt, and he nursed the pain too long, using it to build more walls, an old habit showing up like the proverbial bad penny. They couldn’t talk because it always came back to hurt feelings, his and hers. His because she had left him and hers because he wouldn’t understand or even listen. That was the problem. He never listened to her, and she responded to his anger with defensive actions, closing the circle in a vicious loop. They were quite a pair.

 

Now they were a pair of soon-to-be-parents.

 

God, a father! He was going to be a father! He had never thought of parenthood. That was something totally outside his imagination. Maria was teaching him again, teaching him to think outside the box.

 

~~~

 

Michael opened the door to the motel room and entered without knocking. It took a moment for the inhabitants to realize he was standing in the doorway. None of them spoke. He’d been gone just over two weeks, but it seemed longer. Perhaps made so by the fact they were weren't sure that he would ever return.

 

“Michael!” Isabel was on her feet and hugging him. He returned the gesture halfheartedly. He…she, they…they were co-conspirators in the nightmare he had become aware of just days ago. Hugging Isabel felt…wrong. The action actually made his skin crawl. Not her fault. Not really. But there it was; an automatic reaction.

 

Max stood apart watching. He wanted, needed to hug Michael, his brother-gone-missing, but was uncertain of the reception. It was his fight with Michael that prompted his leaving. What should he say? How should he act? If he acted happy and relieved, then Michael had won the fight. He had made them worry, trying to prove some mythical idea in Michael Guerin’s head. If he was hard and biting, Michael might turn around and leave again.

 

Max stood on a precipice, wavering, unwilling to make a move in case it was the wrong one. Damn Michael Guerin! Nothing was worse than being a King who had no followers or none that cared what he thought.

 

“It’s about time you showed up.” Max almost winced at the cold disapproving tone of his voice. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t. It just came out that way. “We were waiting, and wasting time keeping to a schedule that we had no idea if you would keep or even remember. Maybe telling us before you left, or even pre-arranging a future meeting was too much in the area of consideration? It’s a concept that obviously eludes you.”

 

Max ignored Kyle’s glare as the quiet man looked away. Why start this again? Isabel was hanging on the arm of a quiet Michael, her eyes narrowing in anger at Max. Liz was quiet, but she moved slightly behind Max in silent support, and for some reason that pissed Max off even more. He was wrong. He felt wrong, and his tone was nasty and judgmental. Liz, accepting it without question, was not the person he first met, the one who stood up for what was right. She knew he was wrong. Why didn’t she call him on it?

 

“You’re the same as always Maxwell, the boy who would be King, huh? Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” Michael removed Isabel’s hand from his shoulder, and went over and punched Kyle on the arm. “Good to see you, Kyle.”

 

Max felt the rebuke in the action more than any words Michael could have spoken. Michael was singling Kyle out as someone he respected and missed, ignoring the rest. Isabel stepped back, feeling the slap herself.

 

Michael reached into his pack. “Your dad sent you this.” He handed over a package and a letter which he knew also contained money. “He asked me to tell you that he really misses you.”

 

Kyle looked at the package in his hand, then the envelope. His dad! Michael had seen his dad! Closing his eyes, he wished that Michael had taken him with him. That he had gone with Michael to Roswell, his home, his father. How he would have loved to see it again! He hadn’t even realized how homesick he was until that very moment.

 

Kyle couldn’t help it. He quickly hugged Michael in gratitude.

 

Max frowned. “You went to Roswell?” He didn’t wait for an answer. It was obvious. “Are you crazy? They could’ve picked you up. Followed you! Can you even imagine how much trouble we could be in if they caught us?”

 

Michael could. He could do more than imagine. He knew. He had reason to know. Glancing over at Max, his eyes became darker, deeper and colder than death, saying nothing. Max could feel those eyes. The rage and anger was barely contained. Stepping back, Max realized that he couldn’t resort to the past actions of thoughtless hostility when losing his control. He couldn’t attack Michael, hit him, and expect Michael to just take it.

 

Michael would fight back. Max would lose more than pride. This time Michael would probably break his neck. The restrained violence was just on the surface, Only a fool could not see that retreat had suddenly become the better part of valor.

 

Michael never took his eyes off Max. Reaching into his pack, he handed Isabel a package with letters inserted under the ribbon.

 

“Your mom said to remind you to sleep with your window a little open at night during late fall and winter. It helps you breathe easier. You always had a problem with the dry heat coming out of the furnace.”

 

Isabel’s hands shook as she took the offering Michael held out to her. Home! Her parents! Her eyes flooded with tears. Home was something most people took for granted, and did not appreciate until they left its safety. She missed her life, or what her life once could’ve been. Shaking, she sat down hard and just stayed there staring at her care package from home.

 

“Michael…” She glanced up at him from where she sat, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Words. How did you thank someone for risking their life to bring back a small piece of your own?

 

“No problem.” He couldn’t look at her. She…she wasn’t through crying. This was just the beginning. He had a long story to tell, and it wasn’t going to be easy on her, on any of them. He hated himself right now, hated her, and hated the group of them, but hurting any of them wasn’t something he would take pleasure in doing.

 

“Michael?” Liz wrung her hands together. She was afraid to ask. Was there something in that backpack for her?

 

Michael nodded. Liz smiled tremulously, the smile mixing with tears. She took what Michael held out to her. Shyly she kissed him on the cheek in thanks.

 

“Your mom sent you a sweater, a dirty stuffed pink pig…”

 

“Horatio?” Liz said happily interrupting Michael.

 

“…your brushes and a book.” Michael continued to ignore Max. “Your parents also sent you and Max a wedding present.”

 

Liz looked at Max and smiled. A wedding present! They knew! Michael must have told them! She looked down at the package in her hand, and turned it over once or twice. They had missed her marriage ceremony. Raising and caring for her, her entire life, and they had missed the most important day they could have given her. She cheated them with her lies and silence. Guilt was a heavy weight on her back, and her thin body could barely handle it.

 

Liz quickly searched the package and letters. Smiling, she started to read…

 

Michael took the last of it out of his pack, Max’s. Placing it on the table, he dropped his empty bag, and went past Max into the bathroom. God, he stank! When it bothered him, then he had to be really rank.

 

He jumped in the shower, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. Underneath the thumping spray, he stood with his head bent. It took a few moments before the trembling that began inside to finally shake itself outward. Michael leaned up against the cool porcelain tile as the hot water pounded on him like water on stone. No amount of hot water could warm his bones, so he stood there shaking apart.

 

He stayed as long as the hot water lasted. Standing in front of the steamed up mirror with a towel around his waist, he wiped away the fog that obscured his vision with a washcloth.

 

The hard, gaunt-faced stranger with a scruffy beard and dead eyes looked somewhat familiar. It was an older version of himself. Ravaged by loneliness, scars of life with Hank and isolation from the world peered back at him. What would he have become if Maria had never entered his life? Rubbing his face, he reached for a razor. Hoping it was Kyle’s or Max’s and not one of the dull ones the girls used, he scraped the whiskers away. He needed to look clean and presentable when he found Maria.

 

The mirror kept fogging up, so he used the cloth and cleared it again and again. It was making him tired and sleepy. Almost like being hypnotized by the constant repetitive movement, the circular sweep of his hand.

 

Go the distance. Find that connection you forgot. Find your heart. It will lead you.

 

“Maria?”

 

Her voice. It was so clear in his mind.

 

Go the distance.

 

“Help me.”

 

Help yourself. Take the time.

 

Maria...! Michael shut his eyes and stood in front of the mirror unmoving.

 

~~~

 

They were all hushed in their own corners, hoarding the words from home, contact with a life left behind. Isabel searched for word from Jesse, nothing. No mention of him from her parents. Jesse?

 

Liz reread her letter twice. It was short. Congratulating her on her marriage, a few reminders to take care, and how much they loved her. Turning the letter, Liz searched for more. That was all there was. Not enough. Her parents were silent. Liz took out a formal-looking envelope that was in the small box of her things. It was set among brushes, Horatio, a book. The sweater wasn’t even hers. It was one of her mother’s. Frowning, Liz remembered that Horatio had been boxed away years ago, and the brushes too. They were brushes she used as a child. The book was a Bible.

 

Opening the formal letter, she hoped for more. It was Mom and Dad’s wedding present to her and Max; money, cash. Her father must have sent them a few days’ receipts. It was a few thousand of different sized bills. No other note.

 

There was nothing from Maria. No mention of her. Liz looked around for Michael. She could hear the shower still running. He had been in there a long time. Guilt hit her again. Her parents... Maria... Lately she had been so caught up in running, being with Max, finally getting what she wanted for years that she had forgotten to think about Maria or her parents. It took the knowledge that Michael had seen them to make her realize that over five months had gone by. She was just waking up to the reality of never seeing them again.

 

Isabel was in a corner reading the letter from her mom and dad for the fourth time. They sent her makeup, a few odds and ends. She wished they would have sent her favorite pink sweater, the angora. It was getting colder. Maybe her mom couldn’t. Maybe Jesse left for Boston and took her things. The letter was short, but full of love, and how much her parents missed her. They were pleased to know from Michael that all of them were well. The money was appreciated. Isabel suspected they sent Max the same.

 

Max’s package was smaller. It was more of a stuffed envelope instead of a letter. Inside were newspaper clippings from over the past few months. Max couldn’t figure out why his parents sent him news stories. There was a flannel shirt in the package that belonged to his father, and cash. Her mother sent a small bracelet that belonged to her mother for Liz as a wedding present.

 

Max couldn’t figure it out. The letters were appreciated, but in some ways cold and distant. None of the items sent were personal items except Liz’s and even hers were from storage. The news clippings were something he’d need to study. Perhaps his father was trying to clue him in, give him a hidden message.

 

The most obvious solution would be to talk to Michael. Max looked at the closed bathroom door. Michael had been in there almost an hour. The shower had been turned off almost twenty minutes ago, but Michael still hadn’t emerged. What the heck was taking him so long?

 

Kyle’s letter was different. His dad wrote a long letter, more than one. It was jammed with gossip about friends, sports, and news about fishing. Kyle smiled appreciating how much trouble his dad went to, trying to make him still feel part of his life. The last was a long serious letter. Kyle read it, glancing up at the others at times, but quickly down again to hide his face. Jim told him that Michael would explain, but that he, Kyle must never return to Roswell or the state of New Mexico. Ever.

 

The package had a picture of him and his dad, and old one of his father holding him as a child, and even a picture of his mother. There was an insulated flannel shirt, extra socks, and a box of condoms. Kyle laughed at that. His dad was such a guy. On the bottom of the package was a box of crackers, a can of cheese under pressure, and a small tube-wrapped salami. God! Love you Dad! Kyle quickly hoarded his food supplies. This was for the next ball game he got to watch. He would watch, eat snacks while wearing his dad’s insulated flannel shirt, and pretend his father was with him. Thanksgiving. He would do it on Thanksgiving.

 

~~~

 

“Maybe we should knock?” Liz said biting a nail and staring at the bathroom door. “What do you think, Max?”

 

“I don’t know. He’s probably tired. Maybe we should let him sleep, and ask him questions later.”

 

“I can’t wait. I want to know about Jesse. And where is Maria? Did she refuse to come with him this time? Maybe she left Roswell. Took a recording contract?”

 

Kyle watched them all quietly. “Maybe Jesse and Maria left together.”

 

Isabel turned on him. “That's a terrible thing to say!” Kyle was her friend. What the hell was up with him? “Jesse…he wouldn’t do that. Not while married to me.” Isabel’s stomach hurt. There were the beginnings of a buzz behind her eyes. This was going to be a really bad headache. She could feel it. “Jesse and Maria hardly know each other. What you’re suggesting is preposterous.”

 

The bathroom door opened, and Michael finally emerged. He was clean-shaven, his hair was toweled, but wet, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Ignoring the entire group, he went over to the sofa that was too small for his length and lay down anyway.

 

“Michael,” said Max looking at the others. He turned back and Michael was already asleep. No one moved. None of them had ever seen anyone fall asleep that quickly before. Michael had to be exhausted. Kyle took a blanket and covered the sleeping man. They were quiet for the remainder of the night watching him sleep.

 

Max took the time to read the articles. Each article made him more upset than the last. It was a tale of the destruction of families…stolen children. A movie producer in Hollywood named Cal mysteriously missing. There were articles about a problem in New York City, and a picture of a man that looked very similar to Michael, dead. Rath. Whoever was after him hadn’t been able to take him alive. What the hell was going on?

 

Max moped, watching Michael sleep.

 

~~~

 

“Okay, explain it again.”

 

Michael scowled at her and then sighed. “Maria, its just hockey, not rocket science. It’s not that hard.”

 

Maria squinted at the television. “How do they keep track of that little thing? It sure can move on the ice.”

 

“That’s what makes it so interesting.” Michael said proudly.

 

“Uh huh.” Maria looked thoughtful for a second, and then looked at Michael with great suspicion. “How do you feel about car racing?”

 

“Like stock car or Grand Prix?”

 

“Yeah,” said Maria with an ‘I think’ under her breath. What the hell was Grand Prix?

 

“Awesome! Love the speed, and although tragic at times when they crack up, it must be exhilarating to experience racing at that speed.”

 

“Oh God!” Maria said dramatically.

 

“What?”

 

“Michael, they just go around in circles.”

 

Michael’s face creased in confusion then irritation. “Fine. So what’s your idea of a great sport?”

 

“Shopping.”

 

Maria waited for it. Michael grabbed her, and they were rolling around on the sofa with Maria laughing trying to avoid Michael’s mouth on her neck, making loud obnoxious raspberries.

 

“Where are you?”

 

Maria didn’t say. She continued to talk about things as if he never asked.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Here. I'm here.” Her voice became hollow. “I am still here.”

 

She was fading…

 

“Maria!” Michael sat up in the dark.

 

The room was quiet. The others had gotten tired of waiting for him to wake, and finally they went to bed. The air conditioner was on low, and despite it being fall, it was still warm in the room. Reno. Michael rubbed his face.

 

I am still here.

 

“I miss you.” Michael lay back down and stared at the dark ceiling. He needed to do what he came for, and quickly. He was wasting time. He had too many miles to cover.

 

But where did he start? How the hell did she get out of Roswell on her own?

 

~~~

 

Over 4 Months ago…

 

 

“You’ve got everything?”

 

Maria nodded, not looking up at Mr. Whitman. She couldn’t. Tears. They were always on the edge of her control, ready to spill. Hormones. She was a mess.

 

“Maria…” The older man suddenly looked gray. He didn’t want to lose her too. Alex was his son, and too much to ever replace. Over the past two days, they had kept Maria safe in their house, as he and Linda worked to prepare her a way out of Roswell. They put together clothing and money, and they were giving her a car. As soon as she could, she was to have it taken to Topeka, Kansas, to a factory for the car. The cover story was that his car was being refitted with a new larger engine. The factory already had a work order, and they were awaiting the car’s delivery.

 

Maria looked up at the two watching her carefully. She hugged them both hard, and for a moment held Alex’s mother so close, for Alex and for Amy. She had slept in Alex’s room for the past two nights, and it seemed at times that he was still there. They had kept it exactly as it was before he died, cleaned, dusted, swept. The Whitmans were living with the ghost of their son. Maybe finally they could let him go.

 

“I wanted to ask one last favor…” Maria swallowed hard. It was difficult. “I want to know, if it's possible, if you would consent to be my baby’s god-parents? I…I understand if you don’t want to, but it’s just that I would’ve asked Alex, and…”

 

“Yes.” They both said it at the same time without hesitation. “You’ll let us know when the time comes. You’ve got the address?” Mr. Whitman asked.

 

Maria nodded. Mr. Whitman had set up a P.O. Box in Las Cruces under the name Alex Whitman. If Maria needed anything, or needed to contact the other parents or Jim, she could send it there. The Whitmans would deliver it to them. There was no way for the Whitmans to contact Maria, so they told her to look in the back of Alex’s favorite music magazine. They would leave messages for ‘The Whits’. The publication was only a monthly one, so Maria only had to look once a month.

 

It was late, three in the morning. Time to go. Mrs. Whitman was driving Maria in the car as far as Las Cruces. Maria was to drop her off at her sister’s place and go on. The two women stood at the car looking back at the tall lean man. He raised his hand in goodbye. Maria nodded, and quickly got into the car, not looking back again.

 

Roswell was over. That chapter in her life finally ended. There was nothing left to keep her there, just memories. There were so many bad ones obscuring a lifetime of good ones.

 

It was around nine in the morning when she finally pulled up to the Dupree estate. This was where her journey could end. Laurie Dupree. Liz wrote about Laurie and her connection to Michael. It was a question of whether they had already gotten to her, were coming, or even waiting. Options were few, but Laurie was another loose end. Maria couldn’t leave her dangling.

 

“May I help you?” The voice on the intercom was polite, but distant.

 

Maria paused for a moment. What to say? Were they there, waiting to recapture her? A moment of pure terror ripped through her body. Maria closed her eyes, and breathed hard to calm herself. No fear. No fear. Be brave!.

 

“Yes. I'm looking for Laurie Dupree.”

 

“Is Ms. Dupree expecting you?”

 

Maria laughed charmingly. “No. I hope not! I was just passing through, and wanted to give her news about her…brother, Michael.”

 

There was a pause at the other end, and Maria’s body became covered in sweat. She was about to turn the car around, when suddenly the gate opened. Go or flee? Fight or flight? Maria’s hand tightened on the wheel, she took her foot off the brake and slowly proceeded.

 

A young woman came out of the front door.

 

Laurie.

 

“Maria?” Laurie’s voice was filled with surprise and delight. “Maria!”

 

Maria found herself in a warm hug. She returned it and for a moment she forgot about everything except human contact. Then memories flooded back, of her and Michael in a tree, spying on the Dupree estate.

 

“We have to go inside. Now.”

 

Laurie pulled back. Seeing the fear in Maria’s face, and taking in the pale thin face, she nodded pulling Maria into the house with her.

 

“Jenny, could you have Carl come around and take Ms. Maria’s car around to the garage, and have her bags brought in?”

 

“Yes, Ms. Laurie.”

 

The girls waited until the maid left, and Laurie took Maria’s cold hand and led her into the study.

 

“Michael? Has something happened to Michael?”

 

Maria nodded. She was at her wits end, too tired to walk a step more. Endurance had bled from her body, and she couldn’t speak for a moment. No time. No time to be weak. Hysteria later, speed now.

 

“There is very little time. I have to tell you a story, a hard story, and then we have to decide what to do; for you and for me.”

 

Laurie grabbed Maria’s hands hard. “Maria, what happened?”

 

“They killed my mother.”

 

Laurie’s eyes filled with tears and her hands shook, clasped in Maria’s. “Aliens?”

 

“No, worse. The FBI Special Unit happened.” Maria wiped her wet cheeks and tried to get it back under control. “They're picking up anyone associated with Michael and the others. Anyone they could deem to be exposed.”

 

Laurie stepped back. “I’m…they would want me.” Laurie said it so matter of fact that Maria could only nod.

 

“Yes. They would want to know why you're special. They would want to explore the chromosomal anomaly that made you a target, and your grandfather a donor of hybrid DNA. And they would want you for bait.”

 

Laurie led Maria to a sofa, and the girls sat close to each other. “How much time is there?”

 

“Not much, Maybe none. I escaped. They’ll be looking for me.”

 

Laurie tried to remain calm. “We’re safe right now, but you’re right. They'll come when they get desperate. Any small thread is better than a cold trail. Let’s eat breakfast, and you can tell me everything,” Laurie looked at Maria, and in that moment Maria saw the woman Laurie was becoming and just how much she reminded her of Michael. “Maria, I mean everything.”

 

~~~

 

Presently, hours later…

 

Michael was on his second breakfast. Food hadn’t been big on his list of things to do lately, and on his trip from Roswell to Reno, he ate next to nothing. They all waited for him to finish. When he first started, Max started asking him questions, but the best he could get were patented Michael grunts. So after he finished, Michael sat back and drank his coffee.

 

“Now?” Max said with barely contained restrained impatience.

 

Michael nodded. It was going to be hard to hear, and harder to tell. It was time to get it over and done.

 

It took a while, and when he was finished Kyle was away from the group sitting on the side of the bed closest to the door, staring out the window. Liz was crying softly, and Isabel was crying harder, deeper, and it hurt to hear her. She kept whispering over and over that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

 

Max just sat there, pale and staring at Michael in shock, disbelief and horror. It was all on his face. Etched for all time. In the time it had taken Michael to tell them what had happened after they left Roswell, Max had aged over ten years. His face showed it. Haggard and drawn, he suddenly looked too thin, hardly a King.

 

“I never…” Max couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander to the past five to six months. They had been on the run, but it had felt more like an adventure. A big road trip, with him marrying Liz, and them laughing and enjoying being together unhindered. All he could see now, were all the times Michael sat in the back brooding, not talking, Isabel so unhappy, and Kyle silent. He and Liz had talked, laughed and gazed at each other with carefree happy faces. They made a special code all their own to talk about how they were going to find time alone and for sex.

 

Their friends had paid. Everyone paid for them. No one was happy. Only he and Liz, but that was gone now, ripped away by reality. Future Max. Liz had finally told them all about what his future self had said. That their being together ended the world, because once they were together, they became so wrapped up in each other…they ignored everything else, everyone else. That everyone they knew paid the price for their happiness and died because of them. It was supposed to be different. Destiny had been changed. Or had it?

 

He was with Liz, they were idiotically happy, and nothing meant anything except that they could be together. Not their parents suffering in the White Room. Not Jesse dying. Not Maria being tortured and now lost and alone. Why should it? It hadn’t mattered that Alex died. All that had ever mattered was that he, Max, had Liz, and Liz had him. Everyone else could go to hell.

 

And they did.

 

His pride, his egotistic self-interest brought them to this. He was so busy worrying about himself and Liz, he never once thought about those they left behind who had been in direct contact with them. He never thought about how interested the Special Unit would be in humans who mated with aliens. Thinking back, only a fool wouldn’t have thought of it.

 

Max rubbed his face and rested his elbows on the table. He should have thought of it. He should have known. The others couldn’t know. But he should have. The White Room; he had lived through it, experienced it. He personally lived face to face with the hate and fear on Pierce’s face, the disregard Pierce had for innocents associated with him. Pierce had threatened to kill Liz. He knew. He knew there was no safety for those associated with the aliens. No one was safe.

 

How could he have forgotten that? How? Max hung his head in shame. He had forgotten it because he didn’t want there to be a reason why he couldn’t just leave with Liz. He didn’t want there to be any more responsibility outside of him and her. So he left them behind.

 

Maria had been his friend for over three years. No one risked more than she did, or had been as loyal. She was there practically from the first moment Liz knew their secret. And everything she did, all the times she put herself out there for them, it never meant anything. They never once thanked her, or gave her consideration. That was all given to Liz. Why? Because he was King and Liz was his chosen mate. Maria…well, she was associated only by the privilege of being Liz’s friend, or Michael’s girlfriend. Nothing more, but she had deserved more. Jesse...Max could possibly excuse himself for . But not Maria. She wasn’t a stranger. She was someone to all of them, or she should have been.

 

God. They had got in the van and drove away without a thought or care. They were never coming back. It was not like going to college or moving to another town. They knew they could never contact anyone in Roswell again. They should have realized that when they drove away from Maria it was forever. That in itself should have hurt, or pained, and it was another blot on their record that it did not. Max looked over at his wife. Liz should have felt the pain of that separation. More than the others, Liz had a lifetime of friendship invested in Maria. God.

 

All these thoughts were running through Max's mind, and for the first time since before he left Roswell and married Liz Parker, he couldn’t look at his wife. He didn’t even want to look at himself.

 

~~~

 

Liz’s entire body hurt. Crying softly, she thought of her parent’s care package, how impersonal it was, and how everything they sent was from storage. The FBI had confiscated her entire room. They found the journal. The journal that had signed people’s death warrants. Liz shut her eyes and groaned in pain. Michael had been right. Long ago when he stole the journal, he had implied that it was dangerous to keep a written record. She, at that time was an idiot. She not only kept a journal, but she sat in the Crashdown writing in it, like it wasn’t a big deal. Great guardian of the alien secret was she! Max had thought it was interesting that she was keeping a journal about him, and them. He was flattered, and god help her, she had felt special too when Michael gave it back and told her that she gave him another reason to envy Max Evans.

 

That had made her feel special. Like somehow Michael Guerin thought she was worth knowing and wanted her in some way. Wanted her enough to envy Max and it shamed her to realize that she always believed that Michael had a thing for her, and only settled for Maria.

 

Liz cried even harder. Her thoughts betrayed her, showing how conceited and self-serving she had become. Maria wasn’t second best in Michael’s life. She had been everything to him. Maria had been Liz’s best friend for a lifetime and a sister, but it was hard to admit how satisfying it had felt to be thought important by the aliens, when Maria wasn’t. She remembered how happy she had felt when the fortune teller told her that Max would choose love, and that her love was special…destined, while Maria was fretting over having only forty-eight hours of happiness with Michael, and Alex was doomed to be only a friend. She was proud and happy that she was the special one.

 

It always came down to that, Being special, Feeling special. She had accused Maria of being jealous because her life wasn’t in danger. Not true. It wasn’t that. But at the time she remembered how important she felt to be on the endangered list, and how Max had proposed to her. It was embarrassing to realize how smug and self-important she had felt. Queen. Max was King, and that made her Queen; Important. Treasured. Special. Liz cringed, hearing her own voice saying, “Max is King.” Oh God, how nasty and smugly self-serving that had to sound to the others! Like she, Liz Parker, wouldn’t be with a nobody, and of course her love was a King.

 

It was worse. She had left Maria. It wasn’t like going to college. Maria tried to make her understand that, but she blamed her for being jealous. She wanted Maria jealous. Oh God! Maria had seen it! Their leaving wasn’t like going to college or relocating. It was permanent. Forever. No "See you during Spring break!" No "I’ll call you! We’ll keep in touch!" She climbed in that van with the others and without a look back, left her best friend and sister of a lifetime as if it were nothing.

 

Liz sank her head on her knees and rocked herself a little. Even her parents, a lifetime of love, and she reciprocated with lies, disregard and disdain. She made them send her to Vermont, and despite the cost, came home immediately, throwing away that money as if it was nothing. But she had Max Evans back, and that was all that had mattered. Liz rolled over on the bed and hugged her legs tight to her body, crying. There was so much more. There were so many other actions that seen in today’s hindsight, shamed her. When had she changed? Maybe she had always been that prideful and self-centered.

 

All the times she had performed so-called selfless acts, she could also name rewards she had received because of them. Was a selfless act just a step to greater rewards? Had she done them to promote her image of being a good person? Make the aliens think she was deserving of their gratitude, so she could stay important not only in Max’s life, but all of theirs?

 

Her parents interrogated and tested. Her mother almost died from a heart attack, and now was sick and weak with a strained heart. Alex dead and forgotten; it was almost as if he hadn’t existed. Maria tortured and left alone. Slapped down by all of them, implying she was nothing, and left to bear the brunt of their existence. Even Tess! She was their convenient scapegoat. When things went wrong, it was easy to blame Tess for everything, because even if accidentally, Tess had killed Alex and she had tried to kill the others by taking them home to Antar.

 

But how much that went wrong could actually be accredited to Tess, and how much was her own fault? How often did they scream ‘mindwarp’ to explain away their own bad choices, ones they didn’t want to be held accountable for? Supposedly Michael and Isabel were destined to be together, someone of their own kind, and not once did they even consider Destiny. Not once was the line crossed, not even a kiss, or a look, ever.

 

Because Michael was in love with Maria, and though he believed he could never have her, for him there could never be anyone else. Isabel’s heart was totally free of intimate feelings for Michael so that when Jesse came, she had no problem loving him. All that stood in her way were her feelings for Alex.

 

Liz couldn’t think about it. She didn’t want to, because she was afraid. The answer might be that she and Max were really to blame. Guess it didn’t matter what world or timeline they followed, their friends would always be forgotten. Even Future Max came back to warn her, to change things. Did he mention Maria or Alex? No, he only mentioned Michael, Liz and Isabel. What a nice position she had created for herself. She and the aliens were an exclusive club.

 

 Maria. Where are you? Do you still want to know me? Will you ever forgive what I became, or did you always see me as this monster I am?

 

Liz cried some more. Guilt and a burdened conscience were terrible things. They made a person rethink what came before from a very unique view. Liz hated herself.

 

~~~

 

Isabel hated Liz too. For Jesse, she and Liz could share the blame. Liz wrote down all the truths about Jesse killing Agent Burns. All the details of him and her disposing of the body were written down for the enemy to exploit. How little was their regard for Jesse, even knowing he had killed to protect them. He had killed one of Special Unit. Would they have let him go once they knew he was still human if they hadn’t known about Burns? It was hard to say.

 

Yes, she hated Liz Parker. She couldn’t even think of her as Liz Evans. She would always be Liz Parker. Yes, she hated Liz Parker with a passion, but not as much as she hated herself. No. The greater hate had to reside on Isabel’s own shoulders. She rooted around in her purse. A picture, she had a picture! Smiling slightly through the tears she held a picture of her and Jesse on their wedding day. Jesse, honey... There had to be a mistake. They had left him behind. He was still alive.

 

Isabel lay down on the bed and cleared her mind. Touching his face, her fingers rushing across the picture, she tried to dreamwalk him. Jesse. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in. It was a mantra over and over in her head. Isabel tried for what felt like hours. Why hadn’t she tried earlier? Five months. She should’ve visited him. She would’ve known he was in pain, captured, tortured. She would’ve recognized the White Room.

 

Isabel calmed for a moment. Why hadn’t she tried to reach him?

 

She hadn’t reached for him because she was afraid to try.

 

Fear. She had left him. She had told him to forget her. And what if he did? What if she walked into his dreams to find they were full of a new woman, someone not her? Worse, Isabel had been afraid that Jesse hated her. She had been afraid that her Jesse regretted knowing her, loving her, marrying her.

 

How could he not? It cost him his life in a terrible agony from which death had been a blessed relief.

 

Her parents, Alex, Maria, Maria’s mother, Jesse, pictures of those left behind, those that sacrificed everything for them, flashed repeatedly through her brain.

 

How many more were going to pay for what they were? Isabel sat up and looked over at her brothers staring at each other. The room was silent. Kyle wasn’t talking, but she knew he was thinking of his dad. How could he not?

 

~~~

 

“Amy, Maria’s mom, did she…did Maria get to say goodbye?” Isabel asked quietly.

 

Liz just cried harder. Amy DeLuca. She had to put that casualty out of her mind. She couldn’t even think about it. How could Maria ever forgive the loss of her mother? Oh God! Liz suddenly knew why her parents sent her the Bible. She had strayed so far from the person she once had been - human. They knew that once she heard the truth, what had happened to those permanently lost, to Maria, that she would feel so bereaved that she would need something to help her. They sent her a Bible because they couldn’t help her. Not anymore.

 

The wedding gift was it. There was nothing more to make a connection. She was never to return home or contact them again. She had long ago chosen Max Evans over everything else, over the lives of her friends, her parents, and even over her own dreams. She had made her decision, and it was Max. Happily married, she now had all that she had wished for…she had Max Evans. Death and ashes, pain and betrayal were the cost others had paid for her ambitions to be realized. It was too much. The price was too much.

 

Suddenly, Liz realized the truth that had eluded her all this time. When Max Evans healed her, it changed her, but not for the better…she hadn’t traded up. She hadn’t become superior…just less human. Rather, she had traded down to something less than human. All this time, she thought being alien was what was important, what made a person important. She had been wrong. Her lack of insight came with a high price. Being human was more. Alien-kind had nothing with which to recommend them.

 

~~~

 

Michael heard Isabel’s question. So it was time.

 

The initial horror and shock was wearing off. Now they would want answers to their questions.

 

“Yes. She was there when Amy died. Maria stood beside the pod chamber and watched them burn her mother’s body. She watched as the wind carried her mother’s remains away.”

 

That was cruel. Michael felt cruel as he watched Isabel’s face become grayer, and her eyes big in her head, dominated her lackluster expression.

 

“The children, the Christmas children.” Max said. His voice was dry and brittle. The news clippings. He had told his father about the children, not because he needed to know, but because he wanted his father to be proud of him…realize that his being alien was a good thing.

 

“They’re gone. All of them were taken. Are they dead? I’m not sure. But they'll be watched to see if they change like Liz. If they do, they'll be tested.”

 

“They were better off dying of cancer like nature intended. It might have been hard to see or watch, but at least it would’ve been natural and their families would have their bodies. Now those families will always look for their lost children, and never know why they were taken.” Kyle said bitterly.

 

Brody’s daughter was one of those children who would be taken. Max looked down at his hands. His intentions had been honorable. Or had they? Even Liz had questioned his motives. He had changed the natural course of things to assuage his guilt. What would he have to do to feel better about Jesse, Amy, their parents, and Maria?

 

Some days it sucked being an alien. Today was one of those days, and it looked like it was going to remain true for a long time.

 

~~~

 

“My dad? You’re sure he's safe?” Kyle couldn’t believe it. He was sick for home, lost, his dad taken. He should’ve been there. He was all his dad had, only him, no one else. He should’ve stayed, but if he had they would’ve taken him because of the journal. That damn journal!

 

“They think so.” Michael said kindly. Kyle hadn’t signed up for any of this. He didn’t want to know the aliens, and for a long time hated them, or specifically Max Evans. For an entire year he stayed clear of them, except for Tess, who had also hurt him. So far the alien team was looking pretty grim in the category of movers and shakers, people able to make friends and influence others to great heights.

 

Kyle shook his head. “That’s not good enough! He needs to leave. Now!”

 

Michael finally got up from his chair and went over to Kyle. Putting his hand on his shoulder, he crouched down. “It has to be this way. It’s his choice. Their choice. He has protectors. The Evans and the Parkers. They’re a group now. They’ve taken our place. And as much as we kept them out of our lives, they will keep us out of theirs.” Kyle nodded reluctantly as Michael stood up and looked at the group.

 

“Feel bad. We deserve it. Our…we should have thought the situation through from all angles, not just from our personal perspectives. We are to blame, but  it’s finished. Our lives in Roswell are over. There is nothing for us there anymore. They asked me to tell you the truth, not to punish you, or hurt you. They wanted you to know, to teach you that actions have consequences, and someone has to be accountable. But what they really want us to realize is that we can never go home, ever. Roswell is off limits to us. There we can only bring more death and pain. That's the burden we’ll all have to carry.”

 

“Maria! They really don’t know what happened to her?” Liz asked, her one-time friend’s name sticking in her throat. It was almost as if she was afraid to mention the name in case Michael lost control and struck out at her.

 

“She left.” Michael went to stand looking out the window. “Or they hope she did. No one wanted to think or believe that she was recovered by the Special Unit. That would’ve meant that Amy’s death was meaningless. They wouldn’t even entertain the thought.” Michael turned and looked at them. “And neither will I. I believe she's out there, waiting for me to find her.” Michael’s voice was thick with emotion, but his face remained stone cold. “And I am going to find her and my child. What happened to her is my fault. I should have swallowed my broken pride and let her come with me like she wanted. But this is a lesson too. If Maria hadn’t been left behind, when would any of us have ever worried about Roswell and those we left there? Maybe never. And we would’ve gone bumbling along, as always, leaving how much destruction in our path?”

 

“It’s not like that, Michael. We’re not bad people!” Max said getting to his feet.

 

“What is bad, Max? What is evil? Is it the intent or the outcome?” Michael shook his head. “I can’t say. You’re the smart ones. It’s a question maybe you need to decide for yourself. I never meant any harm or pain, but that was what I caused. Does the fact I never intended it excuse me? And what about Tess? All she wanted was to be one of us. She was never let in the door. Alex was never her intention. She didn’t want to hurt him, and when she did, she desperately tried to cover it up. And when it was apparent that you would never love her, never stop thinking of Liz, she decided to follow Nasedo’s plan and turn us over to Kivar. At what point did she turn evil, because I’m not sure she started out that way. But for me, she will always be evil.”

 

Liz was quiet. Her actions at the time were done with the best of intentions. She meant no harm, and really, genuinely wanted to do good, help and protect the aliens. It was hard to know when her own self-interest came into play, or if it hadn’t always been there underneath the surface, subconsciously motivating her actions. Did that make her evil like Tess? She couldn’t say. Maybe only Maria could.

 

All she knew was when it came down to columns of checks and balances, of Maria and Alex’s lives against those of the aliens, or specifically Max, she had weighed in on the alien side, and had left both Alex and Maria swinging in the wind. Her lifelong friends, a sister and a brother were sacrificed to a greater importance, her own selfish heart. She had been much more concerned about Max, Michael and Isabel’s safety, not once did she worry about endangering those who had loved her all her life. She had put strangers before family. It was a very poor show.

 

“So what do we do now?” Isabel asked looking at Michael.

 

“You’re asking the wrong person. The line is ‘What do we do now, Max?’ Remember, I’m not the King, but I can tell you that I’m not a damn loyal subject either. My life is my own.” Michael looked at the silent group. “I’m getting my life back, the life I want and carelessly threw away because of my pride. I’m finding Maria and my child.”

 

Max shook his head. “She…how do you know she wants to be found by you? How could she ever forgive you? Us? Any of us? Maria has suffered enough for knowing us. You were the one talking about actions, intentions, and such. You can lead them to her, to your baby. And that is assuming she's out there at all and not in some damn military laboratory being prodded and observed. Your intentions will be good to find her, but the outcome could be really bad.”

 

“So you think I should just leave them out there alone? Like you left Zan?”

 

Max bit back a retort to that jab. He had spent a year looking for his son. Wasting his life and making Liz’s miserable, hurting his parents, exposing Cal, all that to give up and forget his son. It was a twist of fate in the form of Tess that brought his son back into his life, and now that had gone bad too. They had his son. Zan was in the hands of the government, lost out there somewhere.

 

“I’m finding my child, and I’m keeping my family safe. No more leaving.” Michael went over to where his few earthly possessions resided and began packing a bag. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take to find her. But I will. I’ll meet you on the Ides of March, the 15th. Until then, do what you want, or what you have to do.”

 

Total silence greeting this last statement. Michael stopped and looked at Max. “What?”

 

Max just shook his head. They had lost too much already. Michael was leaving. It was hard to imagine.

 

“I can understand you wanting to find your child, but…”

 

Michael interrupted Max. “No. No, you don’t understand. You think this is because she's pregnant? Think again. I feel Maria. Not my child. I didn’t even know I was going to be a father until they told me. If Maria wasn’t pregnant and out there, I’d still go find her. This is about her and me, nothing else. The baby is just icing on the cake.”

 

“How will you find her? Where would you look?” It was crazy. Michael was going to expose himself trying to find Maria.

 

“I don’t know yet. I’ll need a picture of her.” Michael looked at Liz. “I don’t have one, so can I have one of yours?”

 

Liz’s face went red. “I…um, I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t have a picture of Maria. Not with me. We took off so unexpectedly that I never got a chance to go back and get my things, the journal, or even a picture. My bag was in the back rehearsal room, and we left without stopping.”

 

Liz hadn’t even realized that she didn’t have any pictures. Not of Maria, Alex or her parents, not one. She had orphaned herself. All she had in the world was Max.

 

“I have one.” Isabel said. She dug in her purse and searched through the small album she carried. Liz looked over in wonder, more than a little upset. Isabel had a picture of Maria and she didn't? “It’s in my wedding pictures.”

 

Michael came over as Isabel faltered over pictures of Jesse. He saw himself sitting with Kyle in some pictures with Maria sitting on his other side, looking bored and ignored. There was a picture of him dancing with Isabel while Max and Liz danced. Frowning, he realized he had never asked Maria to dance that night. She sat there and watched everyone else. Max with Liz, Isabel with Jesse, and Isabel with everyone else. It was another thing he needed to fix.

 

He pondered his neglect. Thinking back to the whole bowling date fiasco, suddenly it was no longer a question of why she broke up with him, but why it took her so long. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. That was in the past. This was about the future. He would find her, and they would go on from there. Together or not, he needed her to know that

 

“Here.” Isabel handed him a picture of Maria. “This is a good one.”

 

Michael looked at it. Maria was sitting at a table alone, the floral centerpiece in front of her. She had her hands crossed looking out at the dance floor when the photographer caught her. Her face was sad and wistful, but the picture was of her alone, and it was clear. Good for showing around. Isabel was right though. She looked incredible, beautiful…so achingly beautiful.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Michael went to stand up, but Isabel stopped him. “Find her. Find her for me too. I can’t think of her alone…not after Jesse.” Michael nodded.

 

“Where are you going to start?” Kyle asked. He had been strangely silent through it all.

 

“I…” Michael thought about it for a moment. “I’m going to reach down inside me, search for that place that feels Maria, and make a connection.”

 

Michael paused suddenly.

 

Go the distance. Find that connection you forgot. Find your heart. It will lead you.

 

She had said that to him once, had given him that advice. Reach down, inside and find whatever it is inside that passes as a heart, then go and make a connection…

 

“Laurie! She went to Laurie!”

 

~~~

 

Michael was leaving.

 

They watched as he finished packing. Quietly Kyle got ready, also preparing for a journey. On this trip he had had very little to do. He had watched Max and Liz all disgustingly cooing at each other, and he served as a wet nurse for Isabel. Little else was expected of him. He wasn’t alien yet, he had no visions, no super strength or powers. He was just Kyle. He helped drive the van at times, but for the most part, he just watched the scenery and wished he was home.

 

“They might be there, watching.” Max said. “Laurie was in the journal, her connection to you and your human donor. They've pulled in everyone over the last five months. It looked like it took about three months after we left before the reports started coming in, but they got everyone.”

 

“Maria was gone after a month. She didn’t wait around. I have to believe she got to Laurie first, and that they're together and safe somewhere.” Michael’s gut hurt. Could aliens get ulcers? It sure as hell felt like he was working on one.

 

How much more guilt was he going to need to carry? He had exposed Laurie, and the damn Parker Journal documented it. He had promised her he would stay in touch and over a year later, she still hadn’t heard from him. Just when danger was looming, and he needed her. He needed her to be safe and with Maria, or at least know where Maria was.

 

“You could be walking into a trap.”

 

Michael ignored Max. Yes, he could be.

 

It was time to decide what mattered most. His own life and safety, or those he loved. Always before, his intention was to keep Maria safe, mostly by protecting her from him and his scary alien life. He did such a good job of that too, yelling at her, threatening her with death, telling her to shut up, and then kicking her out of her own car. He had failed her in so many ways, he couldn’t even keep track anymore.

 

There was no more time to waste being dark and edgy, brooding and nasty in a corner, letting his youth be a large part of the excuse. He had a mission again, a goal. He was on a quest to find his family, and he hadn’t had that kind of direction in a long time.

 

This time, it would be different. He wouldn’t be impulsive and rash in his need to find them. He would take his time, be careful, and make no mistakes. He could not afford to lead the Special Unit to Maria. It was time.

 

“I’ll see you in whatever town that March 15th falls on. If I’m not there, never expect to see me again.” Michael grabbed his jacket and backpack.

 

At the door, he noticed someone at his shoulder. Kyle.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Kyle pulled his jacket on over his dad’s insulated flannel shirt and shouldered his bag. “With you.”

 

“Kyle…” Isabel’s shocked voice rose over the protest of the others.

 

“It’s my choice. I haven’t had a real purpose but to follow Max and Liz on their mission to save people from purse snatchers, and whatever else Liz envisions. Well, Michael has a mission now, and why should he go alone? I have something invested in helping to find Maria. My dad. It's what he would do if he could, so I’m going in his place. Maybe somewhere along the way I'll find my own purpose in life.”

 

Michael nodded. He could respect that. Opening the door, he gestured for Kyle to go first. Looking back one last time, Michael left.

 

~~~

 

They watched the Dupree estate for three days. It appeared that no one was home. There were no cars. Only maids came and went a few times a day. There was no sign of Bobby or Meredith Dupree, and none of Laurie.

 

“What do you think?” Kyle asked, looking around, expecting to see FBI behind every shrub.

 

“We go in. We’re never going to learn anything from here, and the security system is still on. Maria and I broke in once, and were caught. I’d rather not be arrested by the police.”

 

“Then let’s do it.” Kyle took a deep breath. This was hard.

 

Standing at the gate, Michael pushed the button. Kyle watched the security camera turning towards them.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

Michael turned and looked into the security camera, but before he could say anything the gate clicked and began to open.

 

“Come on up.”

 

Kyle and Michael shared a look. They were expected. This couldn’t be good. They slowly walked towards the main house, and though the thought of running away occurred to them, they did not turn back. There was no going back, just forward.

 

The maid opened the door.

 

“Mr. Charles! I was expecting you.” Kyle looked at Michael who just shrugged. They entered the house, and Kyle made a small whistling noise under his breath. Nice place to stem from Guerin. This was a far step away from that a trailer with Hank.

 

“I…Carmen?”

 

“No, Sir. Jenny.”

 

“Right. Jenny.” Michael looked around suspiciously. “Where’s Laurie?”

 

“Ms. Laurie isn’t here, Sir. She went on a long trip. I was ordered to shut up the house, but wait until you came. She and Ms. Maria went on a long trip…they didn’t say where. I think perhaps Europe.”

 

“Europe?” Kyle groaned. That meant passports, foreign countries...

 

Michael was too busy trying to get all the information he needed to worry about where they went exactly. “When did they leave?”

 

“Over four months ago.” Jenny took both men’s coats. “I will have the cook prepare you something to eat. It is just me, the cook, and Carl here now. By the way Sir. Carl took care of Ms. Maria’s car.”

 

“Car?” Kyle and Michael said at the same time.

 

“Yes, Sir. She asked for it to be delivered to a factory in Kansas. Carl had the local dealership ship it. Was everything okay?”

 

“Perfect. Thank you.”

 

They followed Jenny into the dining room as she went to have food made, and to get their drinks. Kyle collapsed in a chair. This place was incredible compared to the small cramped house he and his father shared. And how far it was above the van was not even worth mentioning.

 

Kyle had to admit that since they left Reno a few days ago, his heart had been lighter, more carefree. Now this was an adventure. The journey was wrought full of danger, mystery, and intrigue. This was fun.

 

“So, who is this Charles person, and why are you Lord of the Manor?”

 

Michael pointed to a painting on the wall in the dining room. It was him. Or very close to him, an older version.

 

“Charles Dupree. My grandfather, I guess you can say.”

 

Kyle just stared at the painting, then at Michael. The likeness was amazing. They looked the same.

 

“I hope this is all right, Mr. Charles.” Jenny started putting out food and bread. Kyle started to reach for some of it, but Michael glared at him so he held back.

 

“It looks perfect, Jenny. Thank Cook for us.” Jenny smiled at him.

 

“Is there anything else, Sir?”

 

Michael looked at Kyle, and then appeared unconcerned as he asked, “Just one thing. Did anyone come by looking for Ms. Laurie in the past few months?”

 

Jenny seemed to be thinking about it for a moment. “I believe so, Sir. There were some men. They came about ten days after Ms. Laurie and Ms. Maria left. Carl dealt with them. He talked to them at the gate, informed him that Ms. Dupree was gone for an extended trip and would not be returning for a while, that the house was closed to all visitors. Carl gave them Ms. Laurie’s lawyer’s address, and they never returned.”

 

Michael looked around the room. They had gotten inside. Of that he was sure. Bugs? Cameras? After all these months with no activity they might have pulled the detail, but you couldn't be sure. Michael quickly took some food and started eating.

 

“Jenny, tell Cook that I'd appreciate it if she would pack us some sandwiches and stuff for the road.”

 

“You’re not staying?”

 

Michael shook his head. “No. We’ll never be able to meet up with the others if we sit around.”

 

Jenny smiled relieved. So, they were going to catch up to the two young women. That was good. She worried about the two girls out there alone. This wasn’t such a safe world any longer.

 

It was an hour later when Michael was ready to leave with food for the road. Kyle was still polishing off another sandwich. Jenny walked them to the door, walked outside with them.

 

“Mr. Charles, Ms. Maria said that if you were to come, that I was to give you this.” Jenny handed over a small envelope and another one much larger…actually very large. “She made me promise to do it outside as you left and not before. I was to tell no one about it, and give it to no one but you.”

 

Michael nodded. Leaning forward, he kissed the nice woman on the cheek. “Thank you, Jenny.” Nodding to Kyle, they were finally ready to leave.

 

They traveled north through Arizona, and finally stopped short of Flagstaff. It took hours to get that far. They hitched a ride on a few trucks, and finally stopped at a small bus depot and got a ticket to Flagstaff. Once there, they quickly took a city transit to the end of the route, and hitched a ride to a smaller town just north.

 

Stopping for the night, they got a room. Both of them took turns in the shower, and they were on their own beds watching television before Kyle mentioned the letter. It had plagued them along the way. Michael was unsure about reading it. Maria had written to him. Part of her knew that he might someday come to find her, so she had left him instructions.

 

He had held off on reading it until late. His stomach hurt. The letter could be one of two things. She was either telling him where to find her, or telling him to fuck off and stop trying to mess up her life, that she never wanted to hear or see him again.

 

“Well? Are you gonna read it?”

 

Michael made a face. He had wanted to be braver than this. Part of him knew that in her place, his anger would’ve made him tell her to go away and never bother him again. Michael held the larger envelope in his hands feeling its weight. Placing it on his forehead, he closed his eyes and sighed. Get it over with.

 

Money.

 

The envelope was full of money, much like the pile that the Duprees had given him before. All were five hundred dollar bills…distributed in eight stacks. Kyle whistled. Damn. That made the small amount his father sent him look like change.

 

“Oh shit!” Michael handed over the money to Kyle and stared into the empty envelope. There had been nothing in there but the money.

 

“That money has a purpose, Kyle.”

 

“Sure it does! Me counting it!”

 

Michael picked up the smaller envelope. It was thin and maybe held two sheets of paper at most. It smelt of Maria, her unique scent. Inhaling deeply, he finally opened it slowly, carefully pulling the glue back away from the envelope.

 

A letter.

 

Michael suddenly realized that he had never really received a letter in his entire life. Unfolding the single sheet of paper, he could see the writing. Maria’s hand, but the words were blurring. Concentrating, he saw the opening line.

 

My Darling,

 

Michael gulped, and quickly sat up on the side of the bed with his back to Kyle on the other side of the room. Maria. She called him her darling! Michael quickly went back to reading, his heart greedy for more words from Maria, news that she didn’t hate him.

 

My Darling,

 

Will you ever read these words, I wonder? So many miles have come between us, and I feel that you live on a distant planet, and I'm left here on Earth watching the twinkling stars, wondering if you're at this moment looking too and wondering about me at the same time. Would you remember me? Would you miss me?

 

I know not. I wish I could believe that I know your heart, but finally I'm learning that there is no certainty in this life. Nothing I can truly know except my own.

 

First my love... Yes. My love. You had reason to doubt my affections and for that, and for that time, I can’t apologize enough. I left you. And it was my fault. I forgot. Can I say that? Because I did. I forgot how you were raised, and by whom. Hank. That outer shell of indifference you always wore was one I had learned to look beyond. But for once I looked only with my eyes, and only saw the indifference. I looked at you as others did, and forgot to look with my heart. If I had, I would have remembered how you were raised and realized the very fragile heart behind the façade.

 

Forgive me.

 

I’m sorry for any pain I caused you. That was never my intent. Ever. There was nothing and no one that I loved more. I could tell you now, if you were willing to listen, what was going on with me. But, it's like walking over old grounds. A desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were, towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me. Tempting me. Go North. Would you go there with me? Perhaps, you and I will always be the worst kind of encountering souls. Struggling to find their place in this universe. I want my place to be with you, and you with me. Am I losing myself in a girlish fantasy?

 

Follow.

 

Follow your heart, and I will follow mine.

 

Mine belongs to you. I thought it was time I finally admitted that, and stopped worrying about making you uncomfortable, or being too dreamy or romantic. It’s only words and nothing more unless they come with true honest feeling. And they do. The words come from my very soul. Can you still see me? You once said I was very open, that you could read everything about me. Can you still feel me? I feel you, deep inside. You’ve taken up residency and every breath I take is filled with you.

 

I love you. Can I ever tell you that enough? How long will it take until you come to believe it. And even then, do you want that responsibility? My heart?

 

It's been broken of late. I am broken. I hurt in so many ways that some days I wonder how to go on, how to breathe. On some days, I don’t breathe.

 

I’ve cried an ocean of tears, and they're as salty as the brine. My thoughts are just as stormy, moving back between what I know, and what I must learn. So many small steps, but I’m taking them one at a time. My journey has many paths filled with the evidence of my pride, my hate, my love, my anger, my guilt, and forgiveness. Not just forgiveness for you, but for myself. I need this time to atone for past regressions. Along these paths I have promised myself to heal, to find a peace.

 

But you, my love... Can you find that peace as well? Are you ready to find me?

 

When I think of you, my heart feels too full, as if it were to burst. I can feel you next to me as I sleep. In my thoughts. I am bewitched by you, and there is no one but you. You were my trial, and my salvation. It was the feel of you, the thought of you in my head and heart that kept me alive, that and the growing of you inside my body.

 

My darling. My Michael. You saved my life. In so many ways. I should recount them for you?

 

You are going to be a father.

 

I must go. Find your way. The path is there. Follow it and mend, and perhaps one day we will meet in a place, a home where we both can finally be free of the past.

 

I miss you.

 

Maria

 

 

Michael’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. A letter, but no word of where she went. The letter…

 

“Well?”

 

“It’s personal.” Michael said softly. It certainly was.

 

“Let me see.”

 

“No!” Michael went to put it away, so he could read it again, and again. But Kyle reached across and grabbed it. Michael swore and lunged for his letter, but Kyle had quickly backed away out of his grasp.

 

“Oh damn! A love letter. She wrote you a love letter.” Kyle gave it back, not having realized how personal the letter was. Michael folded it and put it in his pocket.

 

Yes, it was a love letter, his first.

 

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

 

“No. No mention of place.” Michael was devastated. He was at a dead end. Nothing.

 

“Wait, don’t give up hope, Space man. She had to have left something. You’re just not seeing it. There's seventy-five thousand in cash here, and a love letter. You’re right. The money has to have a purpose, and that purpose is to find her.”

 

Michael agreed, but he read the letter, and there was nothing there, nothing but her love of him, which meant everything to him. Telling him he was to be a father. She had asked his forgiveness for the hurt she caused him, but not how to find her.

 

“There's nothing.”

 

Both men became quiet, lost in their own thoughts, half watching the game while trying to work out their next step. Michael kept taking out the letter, reading it, rereading it, and holding it close. Looking at  her picture, he read the letter again and saw into her heart.

 

Indifference, was that the image he wore, the only thing she ever got to see from him? She was wistful in the picture. Her face expressed her longing, her wanting to dance with him, and he had danced with Isabel and no one else. She watched everyone else, sitting there neglected. How little he gave her, and how angry he was when it wasn’t enough.

 

~~~

 

“You hog the covers.”

 

“I don’t.” Maria laughed, putting her cold feet on him to warm them. She laughed at his yelp and the cursing that followed. Snuggling up close to him, she blew softly in his ear. “I’m cold sleeping alone. I like warming myself against you. You are so hot!”

 

Michael actually blushed at that. Damn her. She was making him feel all thumbs, young and greedy. He would love to just feast on her. Trap her there in the dream. It had to be a dream. At least it wasn’t a nightmare.

 

“I read your letter.”

 

Maria was busy kissing the side of his mouth, gently nipping the skin. “That’s good. I meant it.” She moved back and looked at him. “Did it hurt you? Bother you?”

 

“No. I…I read it a dozen times.” Michael closed his eyes to what she was doing to his neck. Moaning softly, his hand held her very close as he ran it down her nude skin. When his hand reached her stomach he was shocked. It was round, and big, bigger than her usual flat stomach.

 

The baby.

 

“Does it grow?” What a fucking lame question, but he couldn’t know what was his dream, and what was hers.

 

“More every day. Would you like to feel her?”

 

“Her?” Michael gulped. A daughter.

 

“Her,” she repeated softly, her mouth resting just on his.

 

His one hand came up and pulled her mouth the rest of the way into his as his other hand stayed on her pregnant stomach. Michael moaned…. memories. It had to be the memories of how it felt and tasted to kiss her, because he swore it was the same. He never knew he could miss someone so much, miss a kiss, and miss a laugh.

 

“I love you.”

 

Maria didn’t say anything. Her stomach moved under his hand.

 

“Jesus!”

 

“She’s just settling.”

 

Michael moved down, and his mouth found her pregnant stomach. A daughter! Maria was giving him a daughter!

 

“I love you,” he said again.

 

“I know,” she whispered as she faded.

 

“Wait, where are you?”!

 

You already know. Make the journey.

 

No. Wait!

 

“Michael! Dammit, wake up!”

 

Michael sat up in his bed breathing hard as if he had just run a hundred miles. The room was lit by a tableside lamp.  Kyle must have turned it on. Maria?

 

“What?” His voice was groggy and full of sleep.

 

“What? You’ve been thrashing around for the last half an hour. Moaning, and making the most interesting noises. Damn I was getting hard just listening.”

 

“Shut up, Valenti!”

 

Michael sat on the side of the bed and found the letter again. She said he already knew. He knew where to go.

 

“Listen to this…” There it was. It was so obscure. The randomness of the wording was too random.

 

“You’re going to let me read…?”

 

“Just listen, dammit,” Michael said angrily. I’m sorry for any pain I caused you. That was never my intent. Ever. There was nothing and no one that I loved more. I could tell you now, if you were willing to listen what was going on with me. But, it's like walking over old grounds. A desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were, towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me. Tempting me. Go North. Would you go there with me? Perhaps, you and I will always be the worst kind of encountering souls. Struggling to find their place in this universe. I want my place to be with you, and you with me. Am I losing myself in a girlish fantasy? Follow. Follow your heart, and I will follow mine.”

 

“That’s lovely, man. I wish someone would…” Michael hit him upside the head.

 

“No! Listen to the words. She’s telling us where to go. She wrote the letter so if anyone else gets it, they won’t know what they're reading, just a love letter.”

 

Michael read it again. “Go North. Follow.” Michael repeated. “She wants up to go north from Tucson.”

 

“Tucson is pretty far south. Everything is pretty much north of it.” Kyle sat next to Michael and read the passage again. “…the worst kind of encountering souls?” Kyle laughed. “With you being an alien and all, and the word ‘encountering’ reminds me of…”

 

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” they both said at the same time.

 

“Of course. It’s a play on words. Worst kind….third kind.” Excitement, he was feeling excited. She had left him a clue…verbal breadcrumbs. Smart!. His girl was smart!”

 

“Michael, “a desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were, towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me.” That’s Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. The Badlands and Black Hills are just east of it, running into it.”

 

“Wasn’t that the mound of potatoes that Richard Dreyfus was building?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

Both were quiet for a moment. Michael looked at Kyle. “Wyoming.”

 

~~~

 

It was already getting cold in northern Wyoming. It was already early November, and they had heard reports of a winter storm watch in the area. They had taken a bus from Flagstaff to Casper, Wyoming, and another one to Gillette. Needing to travel quicker, it was decided that a car was needed.

 

They spent a day in Casper searching for a car. Dealerships were out. But if they did private sale, they could hold off on registering the car. It took a day to find a car that looked reliable enough to get them around. They paid cash.

 

Next stop was a junk yard. They told the owner they were looking for parts, and they wandered the area, until Michael found a license plate that looked relatively new and unworn. Taking it, they later put it on the car, and Michael changed the numbers and registration date to match current ones.

 

They spent early lunch fighting over the color. Finally, Kyle asked the waitress, and that was how they ended up with a burgundy car.

 

“There’s too much orange in the color.”

 

“Shut up, Kyle.”

 

“No, I’m telling you. This is more a scarlet than a burgundy. Burgundy is deeper, richer, and this has orange.”

 

“Deal. I’m not changing it!” Michael hoped they found Maria before he was forced to murder Kyle and spread his body across the continent.

 

Kyle snickered, knowing he was driving Michael crazy. It would just make Michael appreciate Maria more. Searching through a listing of all the motels, hotels and camping spots in and around Devil’s Tower, their task looked insurmountable.

 

“There's a crapload of places.”

 

Michael swore. Dammit, he was already tired of this hunt. He wanted to find Maria now. “Just read them off.”

 

Kyle started reading and they marked possibilities. Trying to find anything that sparked a thought of Maria, or something familiar. They hit sixteen places first, showing Maria’s picture. But it was getting dark, and they were striking out.

 

“Read it again. We know she’s here or was here, somewhere near Devil’s Tower.”

 

Kyle scanned the list. “This would be too simple. Devil’s Tower Lodge?”

 

“Give me directions!”

 

It was a fifteen minute drive. Michael and Kyle trudged into the Bed and Breakfast Lodge and waited to be served. The woman who was helping another group, suddenly smiled at them.

 

“I know you!” Kyle and Michael shared a glance, both about to back away. “Maria said you might come.”

 

“Maria?”

 

“Yes. She and Laurie asked me to look for you.” The woman called back to a room behind the check-in counter. “Rick! Come out here. Charles is here, Maria and Laurie’s Charles.”

 

A tall lean man came out with a ready smile. He offered Michael his hand, and then Kyle. “Finally! I was thinking that you’d never come.”

 

“Maria? She was here,” Michael paused, “long?” He couldn’t give away that he didn’t know that Maria had been there.

 

“Oh, about a month I believe it was that she and Laurie stayed with us.” Rick took the register and looked through it. “You’re in luck. The same retreat cabin they used is open. Maria said that you would want the same one, especially after she talked it up.”

 

Kyle nodded his head wisely as the man spoke. “Definitely. If Laurie recommends something, I always listen. Now not being married to her yet, I’ve been taking my cues from Charles here. He and Maria, now they have a long established relationship, and this marriage thing, it’s sort of new.”

 

“I understand. Amy and I only took over this business a few years back. It’s been a great life. Hasn’t it honey?”

 

Amy smiled as she got the keys ready and grabbed extra towels. “Fantastic. You are going to love the cabin. Maria and Laurie were here so long, that they made a special rug, and we just loved it! Maria was so sweet. She was clueless about hook rugs, but I showed her everything, even how to create a design, and next thing I knew the two of them were always working on it. It helped her to pass the time, since she was feeling so sick.” Amy looked at Michael critically. “Is she feeling better?”

 

Michael glanced at Kyle and quickly nodded. “Yeah, the first few months she was pregnant was rough, especially with Kyle and me traveling everywhere for our jobs. But now that she's just over six months, she is feeling much better.”

 

“Pregnant! She never said anything!” Amy seemed relieved. Maria had been so sick that she worried that it was more than just a flu or cold.

 

“Well, having my sister with her helped. Maria hates being cooped up, and when I’m gone for a long time, we hate for her to be alone.”

 

“That was really nice of your sister to take the time.” Rick said, passing the register for Michael to sign.

 

“My fiancée is a real good sport,” Kyle said, not wanting to be left out of the discussion. Michael gave Kyle a disbelieving look and quickly signed the register. Charles Dupree.

 

“Yeah, my sister is a saint.” Kyle sniffed at that. “Do you need my ID?”

 

“No. That’s okay. You’re fine. You’ll need supplies. There's a grocery just up the street that's open for another three hours. There's wood in the cabin, so feel free to start a fire.”

 

Michael passed over a five hundred dollar bill. And Rick looked at it. “I’m not sure I have enough to give you change.”

 

“That’s okay. If the cabin is available, we’d like to stay for a few days to a week.”

 

“This would pay for a week.”

 

“Do you have that specific cabin reserved anytime soon?”

 

Rick shook his head no. “It’s getting to be off season. Summer is our busy time. Stay as long as you want.” He took a local map and marked the retreat cabin just off a little in the woods. They thanked the couple and quickly went to hit the grocery store before finding the cabin.

 

“We need to get some change. Next time we see a bank, let's go exchange some of these larger bills.”

 

“Can’t you just change them, Charles?”

 

Michael glared at the name. “Change a five hundred to a smaller bill? Are you insane?”

 

It took them a little bit to get all the groceries they needed. Depending on the cabin, they decided to stop for a few days. Scout around and see what Laurie and Maria might have done while there for an entire month. Michael wasn’t too happy to hear that Maria was feeling sick. He should’ve been there.

 

When they entered the cabin, the rug was the first thing they saw. It was hard to miss. It was a large hook rug with an alien symbol as a design.

 

“Yeah, they were here.”

 

“Ya think?” Michael said sarcastically.

 

After unloading the groceries, Michael left Kyle to put things away. He headed back to the main lodge on foot. Going through the door, it was hard not to appreciate the warmth of the room from the increasing coldness outside.

 

“Amy?” The woman looked up and smiled warmly.

 

“Charles, is there anything wrong?”

 

Michael smiled; practicing what he hoped was a charming grin. “No, nothing is wrong unless you count the experience of having to share a cabin with Kyle a major disaster. He snores and talks in his sleep.”

 

“Take the second room. It is better insulated and you shouldn’t hear him.”

 

“Thanks. I was wondering a few things. First, will my cell phone work here? I need to call and check on Maria and the baby.”

 

“It should work fine as long as you aren’t out of your calling plan.”

 

“I’ve got an across America one. I only have problems in some remote areas, and planes.”

 

“It should work.” Amy leaned on the counter. “Baby huh? She didn’t mention it.”

 

“I’m just glad I wasn’t the last to know. You know what they say about men being the last. It’s a girl.”

 

“A girl! Rick and I were talking about kids, but it always seemed like we had so much to do, and over the years it started to feel like we were too settled in our lives to disrupt it with children.”

 

Michael was actually proud of his sudden ability to chitchat. Who would’ve thought? “Amy. Maria’s mom’s name was Amy.”

 

“I know. She told me. She looked real sad too.”

 

Michael looked at the counter. “Her mom had just died. We were high school…” Michael laughed. Sweethearts? That didn’t fit. “Anyway after graduation, we married and soon after, her mom died. I think the baby was a decision to bring some life back into our lives. Her mom was all she ever had, so it was tough.”

 

“Oh. I hadn’t realized. I saw her crying a few times. She was thin, pale and sick most the time.”

 

“Staying home alone without Amy would have been hard, so she and Laurie decided to travel a bit, to experience some different places…places that didn’t remind her of her mom.”

 

“And my name is the same. Oh! Poor Maria.” Amy looked very sad, and Michael liked her even more. “….. And the second thing you wanted?”

 

“Oh, right.” Michael cleared his throat. “I was wondering if Maria left anything behind.”

 

Amy suddenly looked confused. “No. Just the rug they made.”

 

Michael feigned indifference. “That’s okay. I was just checking. Sometimes if she knows I am traveling to a certain place, she leaves me a letter or something. I guess this time I’m out of luck.”

 

“A letter?”

 

Michael quickly took Maria’s letter out of his pocket and showed it to Amy, who read the first line and smiled.

 

“A love letter!”

 

Michael actually turned slightly red, which was perfect. “Guess I’m getting spoiled.”

 

“I’m sure you aren’t.”

 

“Well, goodnight, and thanks.”

 

Michael quickly left breathing in relief. Showing her the other letter was a momentary stroke of genius. She would just remember it as something very sweet and romantic.

 

Amy watched him leave with a large grin on her face. Oh, that was so romantic! Maria was leaving love letters all over the place for him to find. “Rick. Rick, I’ve got to tell you something.”

 

~~~

 

Kyle was cooking when Michael got back.

 

“What room did you take, Kyle?”

 

“Neither. I haven’t had a chance since I put away the groceries, and am now cooking.”

 

Michael nodded and quickly went to claim the better insulated and quieter room. Going into the bathroom, he quickly showered. Kyle was toasting tortillas and occasionally stirring a pot.

 

“What's that?”

 

“Chili, my dad’s recipe.” Michael scratched his brow. Two men creating a chili, it could be interesting. Taking a spoon, he tried some. His eyebrow went up. Edible!

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“Okay! It’s great. Secret ingredient is half a beer.”

 

Michael paused in his eating. “Damn. Keep that away from me!”

 

“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t hurt you. The alcohol cooks off, and just the flavors of the malt barley and hops remain.” Kyle took out cheese and sour cream. “What room did you give me?”

 

“The first one, you deserved it since you’re working so hard.” Kyle smiled. Michael smirked and went to check out the television situation.

 

“This is a nice place. I can see why Maria wanted to stay here a month after what she went through.” Kyle said quietly.

 

Michael nodded, not making eye contact. He couldn’t think about that. Not right now. It was too much to even imagine what they did to her before her pregnancy test came back positive. Last time he slept with her was three days before he said goodbye and rode away. Not one of his finer moments…the leaving part, but he was at least honest with her about his feelings.

 

“Why did you come, Kyle? What is the real reason?”

 

That was a hard question, hard to explain his feelings. “It’s Maria. She…” Kyle served up the chili trying to bring order to his chaotic thoughts. “I liked Maria. I always have. Even when I was dating Liz during PME, I liked her.”

 

“PME?”

 

“Pre-Max Evans, back when Liz actually was nice to know. She was smart, funny and honest. She didn’t know how to lie and deceive.”

 

“She had her reasons, Kyle.”

 

“Sure she did. They all started and ended with Max.” Kyle didn’t know when he became so jaded in his views. Maybe he was just tired of being every alien chick’s fall guy, and now a pseudo-alien one too. Liz dumped him for Max. Which would’ve been okay if she hadn’t decided to string him along, then used his friends as an excuse to end their relationship. Honesty would’ve been better. Anything, but how it actually went down.

 

Then there was Tess. He had really liked Tess. For the longest time, it was even more. She was like everything he ever dreamt of, only more so. It took him a while to understand that his sudden feeling for her as a sister was just another mindwarp. She needed him out of the way, and couldn’t afford to deal with his hurt feelings, so she convinced him that his affections were family related and not romantic. After the mindwarping stopped, all the feelings came back. Love and hate shared a common boundary, and what had once been love easily became hate.

 

Then Isabel became an important fixture in his life. He was fascinated with a married woman. It had been the final blow. She was free now and he didn’t care, because no matter what happened in the future, he would always be second best, or even third behind Jesse and Alex. He was the consolation prize. She would turn to him because of her loneliness and grief, and good old Kyle would pet and care for her. When the hell did he become Alex Whitman’s stand-in? He had become a ‘great guy’. There was a time when he was a young dangerous stud, a threat to women, to their virginity and reputation. He was a jock that fathers worried about when he took their daughters out on dates. Now the father of young women probably had no problem with him because he was such a ‘nice guy’, the kiss of death.

 

“I came with you, because I’m looking for something. Something inside me, and I don’t think I can find it watching Max and Liz play smooch-face with the cow-eyes. And Isabel, I can’t be her substitute for Jesse, or even Alex. I can’t. I don’t want that. I deserve someone who wants me for me, period. Plus, I’m still hoping for the one hour orgasm alien-mojo-thing to kick in and I want to be in a position to be able to test drive it.”

 

“You’re a dog.”

 

Kyle laughed and clapped Michael on the shoulder while sitting down in front of the television with his chili. “I know! Isn’t it great?”

 

“Yeah. Great.” Michael ate for a few moment thinking about what Kyle was trying to say. He didn’t blame him wanting to be free of Isabel, who had discovered how to be clingy and needy in the recent months, or the soul-mate moo fest. That cow thing was enough to put most sane, healthy, sexually active young adults into a tailspin. “So what is it about Maria?”

 

Kyle wasn’t sure he could explain. “Perseverance.” Rubbing his neck, he leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. “All those years, all those times you stomped on her heart, hurt her, pushed her away, she stayed strong. And after she came back from New York and wanted back with you, she took whatever you dished out from pissy Michael to evil Antarian King. And when we left her behind, she again survived. Maria…she stays solid through thick and thin, regardless of the turmoil she's suffered. She’s made mistakes, but I can forgive that. Maria, in all those years, has basically never changed. She didn’t let the alien stuff change what she was deep inside, a strong loyal, honest, person. I guess I need to see that she's survived. That losing Amy, watching Jesse die, and being tortured by the Special Unit hasn’t broken her forever.” He wasn’t saying it right, but it was the best he could come up with. “I need to be there for her, because I too, only thought of myself, and never stood up for her. I need to fix that.”

 

“I went over to the main lodge while you where putting away things to see if she left me another letter. She didn’t leave anything with them.”

 

“She left a clue. I’m sure of it.” Kyle got up to get more chili. “Don’t worry, Michael. We’ll get it done, and this time, we’ll do it right.”

 

Michael would’ve agreed if he wasn’t so fucking tired.

 

~~~

 

“You’re tired.”

 

He had been waiting for her. “Yes, and so are you.”

 

Maria shrugged and continued showering. He watched her naked form silhouetted against the steamed glass. The outline of her pregnant body was interesting to him. He wanted to draw her, maybe paint or even try his hand at sculpture. He never tried sculpture before, but then again, he had never tried drawing or painting until he just did it.

 

“You are so incredibly beautiful.”

 

Maria turned off the shower and opened the door. Standing there, wet and dripping, her skin healthy and pink, Michael couldn’t stop the flood of feelings, the need to cry.

 

“Can I tell you something?”

 

“Michael, you could’ve told me anything. Anytime, I was always willing to listen.”

 

Taking a towel, he dried her off, concentrating on her hair and pregnant stomach. Maria hooked an arm around his neck, leaning her wet form into the hardness of his arousal, kissing him, letting it shift to more as they swayed together in a dance of mating.

 

Michael rested his forehead against hers. “When they told me you were taken, I thought you were dead. And…” Michael closed his eyes. “I…I have no words to tell you how much I hurt from that thought. If you had died….I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to go on. Not without you. It took me until that moment to really understand how stupid I was to ever let you go.”

 

“All journeys are a step in a direction of understanding. This time is for you, my love. When you are ready to find me, you will know where to go. I’m home. I’m waiting for you at home.”

 

“Where is home, Maria? Where is it?”

 

Maria kissed him again, he allowed himself to move into it. “You know...”

 

~~~

 

Michael sat up in the dark. There would never be another night of undisturbed sleep. She came and went too fast. Enigmatic Maria DeLuca was driving him insane. Just tell me for God’s sake!

 

She had left a clue somewhere. There was no way she left Devil’s Tower without leaving something behind, but where? It would be something that he understood, something that would attract his eye.

 

The rug, the rug with an alien design that she laboriously worked on, learning to sew just for that purpose.

 

Michael was in the room with the lights on. Removing the table that was placed on top of the rug, he picked it up and stared at the symbol. Neither he nor Maria knew the meaning, only that it came from his past. Anyone else would consider it an abstract design. No, it wasn’t the rug itself. There was nothing hidden within it, no secret strands, and no stashes. Dammit.

 

Putting the rug on the table, Michael stood looking at the ceiling, rubbing his tired neck. He was missing something, something obvious. His exhaustion was catching up to him. A rug, why a rug?

 

It covers a floor.

 

Michael quickly looked down and searched the floor. Wooden, planked, tongue in groove, and finished. Getting on his knees, he pushed on the floor that the rug had covered. A loose board squeaked. Using his knife he wedged the board up and looked into the dark under floor.

 

Reaching in, he found a letter.

 

Darling,

 

How long did it take for you to find me? I figured it would take a moment or two, but not much more than that. You might not have been the best of students, and school was never the high point of your existence, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have an excellent mind.

 

I thought about the baby today. The morning sickness is a real stitch. Maybe someone should’ve mentioned that morning sickness can occur in the afternoon, at night, and basically whenever. Laurie is worried about me and it's cheering to know someone cares. I think she's only upset because she never knew a person could throw up so much.

 

Isn’t this the best and most romantic love letter you’ve ever received?

 

Ironic isn’t it? All the things I ever wanted to say to you, but kept them hidden in my heart, would burn the very paper had I written them down. But I didn’t. I guess I left Liz with the task of leaving paper trails.

 

That's unfair. The reason I didn’t write my love for you in poems or well thought out words is because I was afraid. Somehow, it would’ve been as if I was trying to find simple mundane words to tell of what you meant to me. Every feeling you gave me raged inside my body until I thought it would explode. I couldn’t lose them to simple words like ‘I love you’ when there was so much more to it than that.

 

Did I ever tell you how you made me feel when you let me see you? That first time we made love? Making love; that's the correct term. It was always that. No matter what our brains told us, or what our stupid mouths said, never have I ever touched you without love in my heart.

 

Sex, the moniker was just a way to cheapen the experience, make it commonplace, nothing but a cheap thrill or good smut. It was arousing, yes, but soon forgotten. You could walk away from sex, but not from love.

 

How strange is it, my darling, that my body is changing because of something we tried to convince ourselves was only sex, but done with such tender passion? I would not ever choose to be pregnant at eighteen, and a mother at nineteen. But there is no longer a choice. I’m okay with that. I touch my flat stomach and am amazed that a small version of Michael Guerin is growing inside me. Not just you, my love, but you and me together. We were always better together than apart. This child will be the better.

 

I’ve been reading, a lot. I was reading about the space program and the race to the moon. Yes, you should laugh. All things space related. Anyway, it shocked me how much I thirst to know everything. I want to understand and share in the adventure. Why did I not find this interest when I was in school? So now, ‘I have a mission to find…’ a school that will inspire and quench a thirst for knowledge in our child. Raised Catholic, should I look to those schools that educate both the mind and the soul? We never talked about religion, or children, or even names.

 

Anthony or Antonio…what do you think? Remember DeLuca is such an ethnic name. I would like there to be a large park at this school, a place for a person to play and explore, to feel humbled by history. Maybe someplace that could teach a child about honor, overwhelming odds, and standing strong despite all cost. I want our child to be better than me.

 

Michael, do you still feel me? Do you feel the baby? I don’t know if I'm afraid of what it will be. I didn’t like your alien side. It diminished your humanity. But, either way, alien Michael or my Michael, I’ve always loved just you. And this baby, alien, human, or a hybrid, will always be loved and wanted. I won’t fear love, not anymore. I'm learning that love is a gift, one that should be treasured and never taken for granted.

 

The moon and the stars at this moment in time look as if someone just reached up and painted them on the sky. And I realize that there is no one, no one but you with me every moment of every day. I carry you in my womb, in my heart and soul. My very bones shake at your presence. There is no man in the moon. He’s here, on Earth, my Spaceboy. I wish I could touch you, once again.

 

“But ‘I have a mission’, and now, so do you. A mission to find what was lost. What should never have been forgotten, but was.

 

Michael, you are not alone. I am here. I am still here.

 

Maria

 

Rereading her letters was becoming a habit. The first was already worn from being folded and refolded. This one he read to feel her. And after he got as much from it as he could, he slowly read it for content, for hidden messages.

 

Mission. She mentioned it more than once.

 

School, Maria hated school as much as he did. A mission was a type of school, one that educates both the mind and the soul.

 

How many missions were there? The notion was insane. He couldn’t travel to every single one looking for her. Michael read the letter again. Frowning he read the question over and over.

 

Anthony or Antonio?

 

Maria would name any son of hers Alex. Of that he was sure. A mission, Antonio, San Antonio Texas, it would be a place to stand strong, to hold ground against overwhelming odds.

 

Shit.

 

The Alamo in San Antonio, she was too damn close to New Mexico!

 

~~~

 

They stayed in the Devil’s Tower Lodge for a week. Even though Michael knew where to go, they decided they needed to rest and recoup. They needed to plan the trip instead of rushing it.

 

Devil’s Tower. Michael and Kyle took the time and climbed it. Maria was right. They felt so much closer to the stars there than at home. On top of the Tower they waited until nightfall and watched a meteor shower.

 

Antar, so far away in the vast field of infinite stars, but it didn’t matter. Michael already knew where home was. He chose it a long time ago.

 

~~~

 

“I missed you.”

 

Maria smiled. It had been a few nights since they shared a dream. “Sorry. I was sick the last few days. I think I was too tired to even dream.”

 

Michael’s heart thumped abruptly in his chest. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His hands reached for her, running over her slight form looking for anything, everything.

 

“Chill, Spaceboy, it was just a cold, nothing more. I had a slight fever, cough, and a disgusting stuffy nose. I’m much better now. Laurie has been killing me with Vitamin C.”

 

Michael’s face remained unaltered, dark and disturbed. “I should be there with you.”

 

“You are, my love. You always are.”

 

“I know where to go next. San Antonio.”

 

“Smart boy.” Maria moved her hands over his body, finding her way into his clothes. “Baby, you need to drop the inhibition. Can’t you dream yourself naked? Please? For me?”

 

Michael laughed. He had never noticed that. She was always naked or pretty damn close.

 

“Maybe I want you to undress me.”

 

Maria’s interest piqued. She smiled a ‘not so nice’ smile, and slowly peeled his clothes off. Michael moaned as her mouth followed her hands, and parts of his anatomy that had been neglected of late, were suddenly…not so neglected.

 

“Oh God...!” Michael stopped cold in his tracks, eyes wide and transfixed, as Maria never stopped touching him and made sure he was watching her. Maria had his...she was...Oh, God, she was beautiful!

 

Michael lay upon his bed, head thrown back, obviously focused on Maria’s hand alternating with her mouth. His cock was jutting through the fly in his boxers, and she had her hand wrapped around it, stroking up and down, alternating between gentle caresses and hard, hot pumping. At times her mouth would descend and suck him, tasting the growing moisture. Her other hand...ohmigod...her other hand was rubbing across his chest; pausing occasionally to pinch lightly at a nipple. Michael watched in fascination as Maria trailed her hand back and forth between those nipples. One could almost see the little buds harden and tighten up from the stimulation. God, did she know he loved that? That he was a slut to have his nipples played with? He knew that Maria loved nipple-play for herself, but he had never given any indication that he loved it too.

 

“It’s your wet dream, silly! Of course I know exactly what you want. Do you think women dream about giving blowjobs?”

 

“They don’t?”

 

Maria laughed delighted at his expression, such masculine confusion. “Sometimes I dream about blowing you, but more you doing me. I could almost draw the look of your mouth on me, sucking me off, my breast, and my throat….everywhere. I dream of that more than straight pounding sex.”

 

Michael couldn’t help it. He was intrigued. Maria had never revealed her sexual dreams or fantasies, he had never asked. He was always so caught up in his own pleasure, or worried about his performance, and losing it while getting off, that he simply never asked.

 

“Tell me what gets you off.” Michael ignored that he should be quizzing her, trying to get her to tell him where she was. He couldn’t help it. It had been months. She was pregnant with his baby. And she was nude, and very sexy. Her mouth was red from use, and her eyes dark with passion. What the hell? He was a guy. He’d get to the journey later. This was something he wanted to know now.

 

Maria smiled in a way he never seen before. It was the seizing of power, raw feminine power. She was inspired. She knew that she could easily drive him crazy with it and the knowledge became an aphrodisiac for her.

 

Michael waited for her to tell him, but she obviously had a better idea. She plumped up the bed pillow and lounged wantonly, accentuating the naked line of her body. No, not so naked in this sudden shift of view. She was wearing black silk stockings; thigh-highs that were held in place by a lacy garter belt, and nothing else. Her breasts were bare, larger and fuller than he remembered. Her hair was tossed around her head as if he had just finished running his hands through it. She smiled enticingly and spread her legs making sure he was watching. Watching? Hell he wished he had a video camera. The thought of Maria posing in a porn film for his eyes only was testing his control. Oh damn! He was going to disgrace himself by losing it immediately.

 

Nope, Maria was going to help him. She transformed into Michael’s very own personal slut, all inhibitions removed. She reached up one hand and grabbed the back of the headboard hard while her other wandered over her right breast giving the nipple a hard pinch. Michael couldn’t help it. He felt the twist in his own groin, her actions tantalizing the voyeur within. The moisture gathering around her nipples shocked him. Milk, it was milk. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, his moan escaping loud and lusty. He wanted to taste it, feed on it, knowing it was going to feed his daughter. The sensual vision of primal needs was too much. He was more than ready to lose all restraint, but Maria hadn’t even begun.

 

Her hands slid sensually down her silky body. Her abdominal muscles, stretched tightly over the baby, moved under her touch. Michael watched. He couldn’t help it. He always loved that she shaved. Her hand searched, finding the folds of her sex, probing tentatively, teasing him as he watched. He wanted her to open up more. God, Maria! Stop teasing and get on with it!

 

No luck. She took her own sweet time getting herself off under his darkened gaze. She kept watching him closely, so as to remember what he liked. The spreading of the fold, the sight of her own fingers sinking inside her, or was it the purring sounds leaving her mouth in short pants? Finally she forgot to observe and just shut her eyes, bit her lip, and fell into the abyss, her hand moving faster as her own body writhed beneath her erudite hand.

                                         

Michael hadn’t realized that his hand had moved to his own body. He was too intent on the visage Maria presented. Her image burned into his brain as she closed her eyes and lay her head back, exposing the length of her neck. The sounds of her moans were primordial as his voice seemed to echo hers.

 

With one hand still working his cock, he quickly arranged his length along side her, his other hand joining hers, working his finger in along side hers in an incredibly tight, hot passage, lubricated by her intimate juices. Maria was panting, her mouth beside his ear.

 

“This is my fantasy. To have you watch me pleasure myself, wanting to share in it, wishing it was your hand deep inside me, and your body making mine cry out with satisfaction.”

 

“God, Maria!”

 

Michael woke screaming in orgasmic release. Jerking up in the bed, he quickly fell back down on the bedding. Damn she was good, very good. His body was covered in sweat. His own hand was splattered with semen, and his heart was beating out of his chest while his breaths came in short gasps. The bed was a mess.

 

When he finally caught up with her, got his hands on her again, she was in for a real long ride. Hot, hard, and bordering on brutal. He had a lot of sexual frustration to work off. After the first month, he might even let her out of bed to eat. Maybe.

 

~~~

 

“So, want to tell me what all the late night screaming is about?”

 

Michael just grunted.

 

“Is that a ‘none of your business’ grunt, or a ‘sorry, can’t talk right now because I am feeding my face’ grunt?” Kyle waited, but Michael just kept on eating like he was starved. For the past three nights, Michael had awakened him with his screaming.

 

The first night, he had fallen out of his bed, and had rushed to see if Michael was okay, only to stop outside the door listening to Michael’s deep laughter coming from the other side. The other man was talking in the dark, and Kyle heard Maria’s name three or more times. The second night was a repeat of the first,  but least he didn’t fall out of bed. But last night...damn!

 

Last night, Kyle had just turned out the light and gotten comfortable. He wasn’t even asleep when it started. He listened to the thrashing, the moans, the creaking of the bed springs as Michael’s larger body moved and writhed upon it. Michael was talking in a low, powerfully deep tone, calling Maria’s name. She must have been working him over, hard. Last night was definitely a blowjob. Hearing Michael tell her to ‘blow him harder’, and all the erotic encouragements such as ‘Oh god yeah, your mouth is so hot!’ was enough to send him to the damn shower, an ice cold shower. It was the fucking middle of the night for Christ’s sake!

 

Talk about cruelty.

 

Here he was in northern Wyoming with Michael Guerin, perhaps one of the most tight-lipped men in the world, and the man was having sex in his sleep. Dammit! His damn alieness better come with some added benefits.

 

Michael snuck a look at Kyle. Perhaps he owed him an explanation, maybe not. After the first night when Maria masturbated to a private audience, he didn’t think it could get any better. It was just a dream, an incredible wet dream. But the next night she told him that the only thing she liked better was watching him be the star. How the hell was he supposed to know that having her watch him jerk off was going to pump his engines so much? It more than worked for him. It went nuclear when her fingertip gathered his pre-cum then ran it over her lips before sucking it into her mouth. God, she was such a glorious bitch, his bitch.

 

But last night, she took it another step further. As soon as the dream began, he found her on her knees in front of him, tonguing him, sucking with tiny nipping bites, then deep-throating him while he lost control and pumped into her mouth without regard of anything but getting off. His voice was telling her things he didn’t realize he even thought about, graphic details his mind had conjured, shaking his world. She was definitely a great influence on him sexually.

 

“I just dream about Maria, a lot.”

 

“So I gather.” Kyle said dryly. “Is it as good as the real thing?”

 

Michael thought about it for a second. “No.” Strange, he never looked at it in that light. “It’s just a wet dream. As soon as I come, I wake up. No deep connection. No lasting orgasm or feeling her tearing apart under me. It is simply gratifying sex. Good for the moment, but it fades fast. Then it’s this hollow hunger that seems bottomless.”

 

Kyle nodded trying to sympathize, but hell, it sounded great, even if it was just a momentary release. Better than he was getting. Damn. He really needed to get laid.

 

“So, has this been going on for a while?”

 

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day we left Roswell. It’s only turned sexual the past few days though. Before I left the group it was mostly nightmares. I was feeling her pain, her sorrow and fear, but the sensations were blurred as if through a drug-induced haze. I think pregnancy hormones have just hyped her into the horny category, so now it’s all about sex.”

 

“The stuff before,” Kyle gulped hard. He hadn’t realized that Michael had been living the nightmare with Maria. No wonder he had been a taciturn son-of-a-bitch. The dreams must have bled into Michael’s emotions, like a really bad trip. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

 

Michael stood up and took his breakfast dishes to the sink . “No, and it was worse knowing that I was getting a watered down version. What she was going through must have been a hundred times worse. To me, it was all just a hodgepodge of weird dreams, and conflicting sensations.”

 

They talked for a while longer until Michael went back to bed to try catching up on some sleep. They were leaving in the morning. Portents of his dreams had been gradually changing, hastening his needs and desires to find the completeness awaiting him. They had varied from comforting to romantic, to continuations of the love letters, to comforting reassurances, and included enigmatical clues to track her. Now they were all hot and fire. Sex, it was as if all the aspects that made them up as a couple, was being explored. They weren’t Max and Liz, so the excessively long continuous talks about their relationship, just weren’t them. Their physical attraction and sex appeal kept them moving beyond that.

 

It had taken too much time to see what Maria was trying to tell him, but he was finally getting it. She not only loved him, missed him, but she was sexually frustrated being without him. Smiling, Michael took a nap. He needed his strength.

 

~~~

 

San Antonio was hot. Compared to northern Wyoming in November, San Antonio was very warm, almost toasty. After some thought, Michael wanted to question a friar or priest, but Kyle pointed out that the missions were run by the Park system. That meant Park Rangers. So soon after they arrived in San Antonio, Kyle went off to find information about the missions while Michael researched a listing of all the motels and hotels near by. He was reluctant to flash Maria’s picture too much. They were too close to Roswell. Too close for comfort.

 

They couldn’t decide which hotel in which to set up lodging, so they arbitrarily picked someplace close to the Missions. There were about five of them in a special park.