End of Summer 2 - Kidman

Exhaustion and hope that all would be restored by morning had driven Kidman to bed early, but she found only restless shadows there and so abandoned her alcove for the garage roof. Now she gazed out over the moors, cool and pale under the moon. "Grey hair, scars, and lost memory..." she murmured to the starry sky. Separately she could dismiss them, together they were a curiosity, but under the impossible they resonated with frightful intensity. Once benign questions grew larger, split apart and spun into endless loops until they threatened to crush her, but there were no answers, and at last the growing dawn begged her surrender. Back in her alcove Kidman made one last attempt to sleep, but darker thoughts floated in. If people with ‘powers' were hunted due to rarity, and her scars were fresh when she came here... ‘What if this isn't over?' Something twisted sickeningly in the darknesses and she quickly pushed it aside, recentering her focus on the VILE propaganda that plastered her walls. Kidman sighed as she gazed at them, visions of a simpler, safer life. Then a thought occurred to her, and she pulled her coat on once again. ‘But if I'm not actually rare, then nothing should change. I'll just have to prove it.' ---- Rum arrived at garage to find Kidman there ahead of him, hunched over the computer. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked as he put his keys down on the counter. "Just because you can't do thought healing doesn't mean no one can do it." Kidman replied without looking up, a touch of desperate agitation in her voice. "Lots of people can do it. It's not unusual at all, see?" Rum looked her over. Dark circles ringed the girl's eyes, her uniform was misbuttoned, and stray tufts of hair stuck out at all angles from under her cap. He shook his head. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you, hun?" Kidman fiddled with an empty styrofoam cup guiltily, then pointed back at the screen. "But see? People heal with their minds all the time.They wouldn't put themselves online if they were in danger, and they have lots of people that come to get healed. There's nothing wrong with me." The older man pulled up a stool next to her and considered her thoughtfully. "You really think this all happened, don't you?" "Yes, of course I do, because it did happen. I was there, I felt it happen. Why else would-? "Hey, hey now. Then how about this, then? Did you know that sometimes when something really bad happens, like with Jan, the brain will make up something so it can deal with it. They call it a ‘psychotic break'. It'll feel real, but it's just your head trying to protect you. It happens to lots of people. Go on and look that up while I make us some coffee." The colour cautiously came back to Kidman's face. "You mean I might not have it at all?" "Sorry hunny, no men in black comin' a courtin'. You'll have to be content with runnin' from the million other people chasn' us." ---- The more Kidman read, the more the idea of a lapse of sanity made sense, and she meticulously purged thought-healing from her mind as days went by. Soon life returned to its normal groove and the girl happily followed suit, and yet, she spoke a little less now, ate a little less, hid a little more. The night spent on the roof under circles of chaos had given her a glimpse of the edge of sanity, and there were still three other mysteries. But those were old mysteries, familiar questions with no proven danger. ‘I'm just stirred is all. Perfectly normal. Just need more time.' she thought as she watched the tall grass wave in a weedy lot between two stone storage houses, one of many places she liked to hide in and think. Then a patch of grass rustled contrary to the prevailing breeze, catching her attention. The girl knew it was probably one of the many small things that ran about here, but something felt wrong, and after a bit of looking she she found its source. "Cor, an adder!" Kidman squeaked and jumped back, but the snake remained where it was. Only the first few inches seemed able to move, as if its spine were broken. She came in closer to inspect, but as she did she felt something familiar begin to stir awake. "No." Kidman whispered fearfully and pulled back. "No no no." ‘Yes! We can fix this!' cried a thin voice from within and Kidman pressed her hands over her ears. "No, this isn't real. I'm regular, people don't do that. I'm a safe, normal and safe." Every muscle tensed with the growing desire to run, but the grass rustled again as the snake struggled and failed. Had it been here long? Was it scared? In pain? "I, I can't just leave it here like this," she stuttered with teary eyes. She fought her shadows a moment longer, then slowly held up her jacket and tossed it over the snake. In a swift movement Kidman found the back of its head and held it the way she had been shown with her left hand, leaving her right free. It was a risk handling a venomous snake this way, but adder bites were rarely fatal to humans, while paralysis, she was sure, was fatal to snakes. ‘This is ridiculous' she thought all the while. ‘People can't heal with thoughts. This isn't going to work. I don't want this to work, I don't want....' A seemingly empty space in the back of her mind reached across the expanse between them and a conversation commenced. ‘Tell me what you need' her voiceless voice asked and the snake's biology replied, taking what it needed from her to repair itself. Kidman didn't understand the physiological processes that she was enabling, but she eventually caught onto patterns and mimicked them, learning as she went until her energy was spent. When Kidman regained consciousness it was cooler and darker. Crickets chirping out their evening songs in her ears, unaware that she lay in the grass amongst them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the snake slip out effortlessly from beneath her jacket. They regarded each other a moment as their new realities dawned upon them. Then the snake turned, and with a flick its tongue, disappeared into the coming night.