Whisperings... Part One

Well, I couldn't figure out how to put more pages on under the headings "My Stories", so I decided that I would just start one of my stories here. Those interested could read and those who aren't can ignore it. It is a sci fi story in 4 parts.

 Here is Whisperings Part One: 

copyright 2000

Whisperings

by Rian

 

 

* the watcher  (Part One)

 

    Upon waking, Zoe stretched her long lean body and smiled.  She had slept well despite the concern she had felt upon leaving the theater the night before.  Thinking she was being followed, she had given in to fear and had run the last few feet to her car - heart thumping and mace in hand.  However, upon arriving home safe and sound, she had later berated herself for her actions.  All her life she had been plagued by a strange feeling of being watched and voices that whispered. Her adopted family had convinced her as a child that she simply had an overactive imagination that needed to be held in check.

     'A brief moment of paranoia', she decided this morning and let the matter drop as she swung her long bare legs over the side of the bed and tottered off to the small kitchenette where she fumbled with coffee beans and a grinder.  She told herself that one day she would be in a position to buy one of those wonderful new coffee makers that not only grind your coffee, but brew it as well.  Wasn't technology wonderful - just a mite too expensive for someone who was 'between jobs' at the moment.

     Then slipping onto the small patio that nestled outside her one room apartment, Zoe settled into a canvas lounge chair holding her steaming cup and watching two other very early birds in the tree across the way.  It was barely light, but it looked to her that the larger bird was feeding the smaller.  'How sweet', she thought.  The cool breeze caught her bare feet and ran up the loose cotton t-shirt she slept in.  It felt fabulous. 

     It was Sunday so no need to rush about. She could just 'be'.   It would be necessary to continue the search for new employment on Monday, but for some mysterious reason, Zoe was unconcerned.  Something would turn up, and in the meantime she was feeling very mellow. She had long since given up on going to Sunday services.  She did go sometimes during the week when the congregation was small and the gathering more intimate.  But on Sundays, she sat alone with God in her small garden - or so she thought. 

     Actually someone did sit with her there - but Zoe was not always aware of it.  Sometimes she felt a prickly sensation on the back of her neck when the watcher moved too close.  Generally he walked freely about the small garden, taking care not to venture within "her space" - unless it was necessary.  Zoe was his project, but more than that, she was "important", more important than anyone could imagine.

     Out of nowhere an orange blur leaped out of the bushes and onto Zoe's lap.  On instinct the watcher moved closer as a cry of helplessness escaped his charge.

     "Oh, Chester - look what you've done, you made me spill coffee everywhere!  And look at you, you've been rolling in the bushes again.  You're covered with leaves and dirt."

     The Chester cat purred at the sound and touch of his mistress' sweet voice and tender hands, but soon sensed something else close by.  Arching his back, hissing, and letting out a strange catawalling sound, he bounded off Zoe's lap and disappeared through the open kitchen door.

     "You are one strange cat, Chester", Zoe said aloud at the retreating feline, "Lucky for you that I love you so much."

     Laughing at herself, she disengaged her long legs that she had tucked under her lotus fashion - a habit learned in Yoga class years ago - and proceeded to remove the coffee stained t-shirt as she re-entered her apartment.

     Returning moments later, this time in jeans and a blue loose-fitting sweater, she poured herself another cup, switched off the brewer, and headed for the front door.  Staring for a moment at her reflection in the hall mirror - pale delicate skin (almost translucent), light golden hair pulled back loosely with a rubber band, and large piercing blue-grey eyes that someone once called eerie - she wondered about her own biological mother. Did she resemble her? Would she ever know?

     Unlocking the dead bolt, she opened the door carefully and glanced down the long corridor.  It was empty.  Sunday mornings people tended to sleep in, and she saw no sign of her imaginary stalker from the night before.  Shaking her head as if to clear it form even venturing down that lane of thought, Zoe reached down and picked up the morning paper.

     That's when she saw it!  Something moved in the shadows down the hall.  A flicker of "something", then gone.  My imagination again, she reflected, always working overtime.  Closing the front door behind her and replacing the dead bolt, she began to peruse the front page in silence. But - somewhere someone was whispering ....  Standing perfectly still, paper and coffee in hand, Zoe cocked her head and listened:

     "We're waiting... we're waiting... we're waiting..."

     "Who's waiting?", Zoe said aloud.  "Who are you?" she almost shouted, "Am I going crazy?"

     "Listen with your heart... listen... listen...", the whispers continued.

     Zoe listened. She thought she heard a cry - a tiny far off cry. Putting down the coffee cup and newspaper, she hurried back to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open again.  Now she heard it clearly.  It sounded almost like...  a kitten?

     Moving slowly, cautiously down the darkened hallway, Zoe ventured towards the sound.  She was about to reach the corner where she had previously thought she had seen movement when the door she was passing suddenly burst open.

     Zoe screamed!

     "My god! You gave me a start", exclaimed the sparsely clad young man in the open doorway.  "It isn't every day I find a girl on my doorstep... and a screaming one at that.  Are you alright?"  His accent was British and his concern seemed real. "I'm Noah... ", he began.

    But Zoe didn't respond.  She was staring at something in the shadows.  Staring and pointing....

     "I say, what is that?" the tousled haired Englishman asked, seeing movement without shape in the corner. "I'm sorry, but without my glasses...", he began.

     As Zoe moved nearer, she startled, then quickly ran forward and leaned down.

     "What is it?" repeated the near-sighted stranger.

     Reaching out a hand, she uncovered the quivering bundle. "Oh my God, she cried, it's a baby!"

     The watcher smiled.

(to be continued tomorrow)