sucks,” he declared, breathing out eyes-burning boozy fumes. I dragged him towards the exit amidst the fitting, mournful sounds of the music playing from the speakers.
All the way to his house, I prayed to God for only two things. First, that he wouldn't puke in my car. Second, that Sabrina would be at work. She worked as a bartender in the French Quarter, and I vaguely remembered her complaints about having twice as much work during tourist rushes. As a last resort, I wished for her to be fast asleep, so we wouldn't have to engage in another endless verbal battle, the end of which was neither seen nor foreseen. This beautiful girl didn’t dislike me. She hated me! But why? Since I couldn’t find an answer to that question, I tried to reciprocate her feelings, but it didn’t work well. In fact, it didn’t work at all. According to her, I was something of a Satan’s aide sent down to earth to poison her brother’s life, and hers too. The problem was doubled by the fact that her brother held a completely opposite view and saw me as his savior.
As we approached the Garden District, I noticed Eric suddenly open his eyes wide in horror and press his fingers to his lips. It was a sure sign that he urgently needed fresh air. I dropped him off near the house to avoid ruining the interior of my beloved and still brand-new car and drove off to make a u-turn. While I was parking, that idiot not only entered the house, but also did it with such a racket that it could be heard even outside. I instantly froze. Silence. No screams, no shouts, no preaching. A promising start! So, our little fairy hadn’t returned from work yet. I needed to get this drunken creature as far away from her as possible, into his bedroom, and retreat before her return.
Meanwhile, the events that followed, I believe, you can recall well. She was at home… ”
Jack pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and lit up again.
Only now did it begin to dawn on him that there was something strange about her behavior back in the kitchen. She didn’t lash out at him as usual, didn’t hurl insults, and almost silently took the keys when he was helping Eric “make it” to his room. He recalled how she just stood there, staring wearily out the window with empty eyes. So fragile and petite, so pale and pensive, and… so vulnerable.
Her long, dark hair fell in tangled locks over her slender, slouched shoulders. And when she turned to look at Jack, there was so much unsaid pain in her huge blue eyes… It wasn’t just fatigue. All the sadness she had experienced after her grandfather’s death was reflected in that gaze. What he read in her eyes triggered Jack. He, too, was mourning heavily for the old Venters. He was his biological grandfather; something Sabrina, of course, didn’t know. And Jack didn’t dream of her ever finding out the whole truth.
And now, his mother, his own mother, not just asking, but commanding him to
“keep an eye” on this girl. Of course, the order came from her superiors, and he simply couldn’t disobey it. Not only did his own financial well-being depend on it, but also his entire future life. However, Jack had always been uncomfortable with the way the Order manipulated the fate of another person, even if it was for their
benefit. Being a member of the Order meant that he would be involved in this lie from the very day he was born.
But beneath the command to watch over Sabrina, he felt there was something else… He had also to monitor the development of her supernatural abilities, and that in itself presented significant problems.
Perhaps, thanks to her upbringing more than anything else, at the age of twenty-three, Sabrina showed no signs of any supernatural talent or even hints of its presence. So unlike all her predecessors, or rather relatives, who had “showed character” from an early age. Jack, on the other hand, had his own theory on this matter, summed up in just one word – mediocrity.
It seemed to him that although she certainly possessed certain abilities, even superhuman abilities, she was only ever going to exert them to annoy or provoke him.Was he some sort of catalyst for her darker side? Jack shook his head, trying to dismiss these controversial thoughts, and made his way towards Building ‘B’.
He entered with a heavy sigh and headed for the auditorium door adorned with a name-plaque announcing that Mrs. Preston, Head of the Literature Department, could be found here. Excellent, there would be time to catch some sleep and maybe even have a dream or two. Jack settled into the darkest corner of the auditorium, hoping no one would notice his presence.
“Mr. Cornell!” Mrs. Preston chirped in her soft, high voice, her plump cheeks immediately flushing crimson.
“Yes, Mrs. Preston?” Jack bestowed upon the teacher one of his most charming smiles and looked intently into Mrs. Preston’s brown eyes. The plump woman instantly blushed, and dimples appeared on her cheeks.
“Mr. Cornell, I hope you haven’t forgotten to prepare for today’s class?” the woman asked, turning back to the blackboard to avoid his gaze.
“Of course not, Mrs. Preston. ‘To Kill a Mockingbird,’ I’ve read the book cover to cover and I must admit, I’m very intrigued. Such an interesting and captivating plot, and most importantly, with such deep meaning.”
Jack flashed his trademark smile. The only thing he took away from the book while “preparing” for today’s literature class was the title and the author’s name.
Mrs. Preston nodded approvingly and began to sort through the essays, lying in a crumpled stack on her desk. Excellent. Literature for today was over. Mrs. Preston, as always, wouldn’t ask him anything else, at least not today. So, he could relax and doze off. The bell rang, signaling an hour and a half of aimless dozing and
tangled thoughts… Everyone took their seats, and Jack closed his eyes, beginning his self-analysis.
Chapter 3
Jack Elliot Cornell – that's me So, what do we have here?
My name is Jack Elliot Cornell. I’m twenty-four years old. I am a member of the ancient Order called “The Guardians,” to which my dear parents had assigned me long before I came into existence. Oh yes, I forgot, my parents are also part of this order, as are all my few relatives.
I have a crazy little family. A strange, far-beyond-the-norm job and even our own greenhouse, or is it a house after all? My secret refuge and my pride. It used to be something like a greenhouse, meticulously erected over an indefinite period of time by my unstoppable mother. She conducted her experiments there, growing strange hybrids from equally mysterious plants. This went on until I hit puberty and started rebelling. That was exactly ten years ago now. That’s when I declared my intention to leave home and live alone. Mom threw a terrible tantrum and said I could do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t drive her to seizures with my comebacks and departures. That’s when I got my first earring. Then I ran away, more than once. But the terrible, omnipresent “Guardians” would always find me and bring me back to the family nest. In the end, when my father got tired of my endless antics and my mother's constant tantrums, he called me to his office…
“Jack Elliot Cornell! I hate to say this, but I have to. I’ve had enough of you!” he thundered. “Or to be more precise, of your stupid childish antics !”
My father was pacing the office as he talked, wearing a facial expression of impeding trouble typically reserved for dealing with the employees of the so-called
“construction company” he managed. It was clear he was making every conceivable and inconceivable effort not to give me the magical ‘boot’. I just stared at him from under lowered brows. My right eye was bruised because a couple of days ago, I had got into a fight with my best friend Eric over who could jump furthest off a rope swung into the Mississippi.
