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 Future's Path By Aimless Ramblings   Copyright 2007 by Aimless Ramblings

   Chapter 5   Elena stares at her bedroom ceiling with disgust.  It's a
beautiful summer Sunday morning; a perfect time to laze in bed, daydream,
and plan out exactly how far she's going to let a certain boy get the next
time they're alone.  But, after a night of apparently dreamless sleep, she
is now completely awake, and cannot lie still.    Sighing, she rolls over,
and cranes her neck to see the clock on the nightstand.  '7:38 AM?  Gross!'
  She rolls on to her back again, and closes her eyes.  Even more
frustrating than her inability to sleep in, is the fact that she hasn't had
any viewings since observing Gavin's father yesterday.  Normally, she has
several visions in one day, and has sometimes been bombarded with multiple
occurrences in a single hour.  It's rare, and the frantic rapidity of those
episodes always gives her a splitting headache, but total silence from her
dreamscape is almost worse.  In her experience, the absence of viewings
means she's reached a plateau in her life, and some sort of decisive action
on her part is required.  The only question is, what?    Elena sits up,
swings her feet off the bed, and, grabbing a robe, heads for the bathroom. 
If she can't enjoy a slothful morning dreaming about Gavin's body, at least
she can get clean.  The house around her is silent, and both of her
sister's bedroom doors are closed.    She walks into the bathroom, tosses
her robe over the open door, and turns on the water in the bathtub. 
Adjusting the faucet so that it's on the hottest setting possible, she
waits for the water to heat up.    Should she somehow contrive to tell
Gavin that his father is gay?  Would learning that truth bind them
together?  Binding Gavin is her ultimate goal, but what will sharing this
unattractive bit of truth do except cause him pain?  It would almost
certainly drive a wedge in-between Gavin and his father, but if that
happened, might he simply return to California to live with his mother? 
Hardly the result she's looking for.    Pulling up on the lever to redirect
the water to the shower head, she steps under the hot spray, flicks a few
stray hairs over her shoulder, closes the shower curtain, and reaches for
the soap and body sponge.  And then, there's the flip side.  What if she
remains silent, tells him nothing, and he eventually learns the truth, and
asks her whether she knew?  Would he ever be able to trust her after that? 
By her own design, he now knows her secret, and she remembers quite clearly
his response upon learning about her ability.  Not, 'Are you sure?' or 'How
does it work?' but with calm acceptance, 'Do you still have dreams?'   She
growls in frustration, and rubs ferociously at her arms and belly with the
soapy sponge.  It isn't supposed to be this fucking hard to decide what to
do.    Unfortunately, she has never been able to manage any sort of control
over what, when, or who the dreamscape shows her.  She is simply pulled
into that future world, allowed to witness an event, and then pushed out. 
The only pattern is that the events she witnesses have always been
personally significant to her; never generalized viewings of natural
disasters, terrorist acts, or other world events.  She knew when her mother
began contemplating whether or not to date Bob, when their relationship
turned intimate, and when he finally decided to ask her to marry him.   
Her viewings of Gavin had been unique because he was such an enigma to
her.  Here was someone whom she had never met, and, as far as she could
tell, wasn't connected to her by friends, family, or anything else.  He had
simply appeared in her dreamscape one day.  After that initial appearance,
her viewings of him had become more and more frequent, as though someone or
something was trying to focus her exclusive attention on him.  If, in fact,
that had been the intention, the strategy had proven to be wildly
successful.    It had been something like reading a serialized story in a
magazine.  Gavin, in the starring role, hadn't seemed all that interesting
at first; just your average teenage boy, with a pretty uneventful life.  It
had been the mystery of why she was being shown his everyday life in such
vivid detail--a single nighttime viewing often revealing what appeared to
be a full day of his life--which had initially captured her attention.  She
saw him talking to friends, brushing his teeth, drawing cartoon characters
in class instead of paying attention, girl watching, playing with Mac,
almost everything.  The only two people who had remained hidden from her
viewings of his life had been Gavin's parents.  Their absence from her
visions was so complete that when his life had been turned upside down, she
hadn't realized at first why he was so upset.  It was only when Gavin
finally confessed to his best friend, Ken, that his parents were getting a
divorce that she fully understood what was going on.    Elena's body is now
covered in suds from head to foot, and putting down the soap and sponge,
she steps back under the pounding spray with a contented sigh.  Leaning her
head back so that the water pours over her face and cascades through her
hair, she wishes that Gavin is here with her now.  She remembers how he
looked at her last night before climbing out the bedroom window, and
smiles.   What had addicted her to Gavin all those months ago hadn't been
the viewings of his everyday existence.  It happened the fourth or maybe
fifth time he appeared to her.  He had been alone in his bedroom, sitting
in front of a desk with half a dozen open textbooks and scattered papers. 
No homework was being done though.  Instead, Gavin was clicking away at
something on his computer screen, and, from her angle, she hadn't realized
at first what it was.  Tiny pictures?  Thumbnails of...  Girls!  Gavin's
gaze locked on one image in particular, and, after more clicking, it
expanded.    Elena was not particularly impressed.  The girl's hair was
nice, but the tits were obviously fake, and the position she'd been filmed
in looked decidedly uncomfortable.  She was leaning forward, her face
pressed against the floor, with both of her improbably sized breasts
hanging down.  Her legs were spread as far open as she could manage, of
course, and she appeared to be inserting...  'Is that a banana?  Dude, we
gotta find you some better porn!'   Gavin's eyes had grown wide during
Elena's mental critique of the model's appearance.  Not surprisingly
unconcerned with the finer points of reality, he had begun struggling to
remove his pants and underwear.  Elena, at first amused, and then
embarrassed, could not stop watching.  Gavin's eyes, although fastened on
the screen in front of him, held a far away look, as though focused on some
internal fantasy of his own.  Pants and underwear discarded, his hands
moved between his legs; touching, stroking, unknowingly displaying his most
private self to her.    Tethered to him, she had felt herself melting
inside; his heightened sensations slowly drifting to her across the link. 
Even though he had no idea she was there, it had felt almost like she was
sharing the moment.  No longer embarrassed, she had drifted as close to his
body as possible, reaching, striving somehow to touch, but never permitted
to do so.    The memory of that first time in her dreamscape with him, his
pumping hand, his body taut and stretching towards orgasm, has her panting
underneath the shower's spray.  Making love with Gavin yesterday had been
intoxicating because she could finally touch him, but this experience is
thrilling for another reason.  Her own hands are busy; the right tracing
delicate circles in-between her lower lips, the left massaging and then
tugging on her right breast by its nipple.  The heat of the water, its
insistent thrumming pressure, is pulsing through her body.  She is
climbing, spiraling upwards towards her eventual release, desperately
wanting to scream out loud.    In her mind, Gavin and her own unseen
awareness climax simultaneously, and, for the briefest of instants, they
touch.  His body, the bedroom around her, everything suddenly takes on a
sparkling clarity.  A powerless observer no longer, she can feel!    And
then, it is gone.    --   There is a stranger sitting at the kitchen table
when Gavin comes downstairs Sunday morning.  He looks like a body builder. 
Large muscles cover his oversized frame, and Gavin is astonished that all
of him fits in one chair.  His father is making coffee, and neither one of
them gives any sign of having heard his descent.    'A cop?'  Had someone
besides Laura seen him jump from Elena's roof last night?    "I don't care
what you paid for it," the big man says emphatically, "it's a rip off. 
I'll grant you, Michael's boys used to build one of the best boxes in the
industry, but now?"  He shakes his head in disgust.  "Total crap!"  
"What," his father objects, turning with two cups of coffee in his hands,
"I should've let you build me one, and relied on your sterling technical
support?  Oh, good morning, Gavin."  He hands a cup to the stranger, sets
down his own coffee, and beckons Gavin forward.  "This is my friend, Bill. 
Bill, my son Gavin."   Bill reaches out, takes Gavin's offered hand, and
does not crush it to a bloody pulp.  "Nice to meet you," he rumbles.   
"Hello," Gavin says, reclaiming his hand.    "You'll have to forgive my
son's eloquence," his Dad apologizes, "he's usually not awake until well
after 2:00 PM.  When did you finally get home last night, anyway?"   Bill
saves him from having to come up with a response by raising a beefy hand. 
"Just a minute, Al.  Before you ground him for life, I have a question for
the boy."  He turns to Gavin.  "Hypothetical situation.  You're a burglar. 
You break into a house ..."   "Oh, this is good," his father complains.   
Bill waves him down.  "Shut up.  There's not really much in the place worth
stealing," he continues to Gavin, "except for two computers.  One of them's
a Dell, and the other one doesn't have a brand name on it anywhere.  You
haven't got much time, and you decide you can only carry one of them with
you.  Which one do you take?"   His father looks exasperated, but remains
quiet.  "It depends," Gavin says.    "On?" asks Bill.    "What I'm going to
do with it," Gavin replies.  "If I want something I can move quickly on the
street, I'll take the Dell.  If I'm going to use it myself, I'll take the
custom system."   Bill laughs, and claps him on the back.    Gavin
staggers, and catches hold of the table to avoid falling.  "It doesn't
matter anyway," he says, grinning maliciously at his father, "Dad can brick
any system ever built."   The big man roars with laughter, and looks as
though he's considering pounding Gavin into the floor with another
approving blow.  "He's got you there, Al."   "Yeah," his father says,
grinning back at Gavin, "and all I've got is a garage which needs
emptying."   Gavin smiles; he had seen that one coming.  "Garage sale," he
comments, turning towards the fridge.  "It'll be cleared out by the end of
the day."   His father chuckles, "The optimism of the young."   "Yeah,"
Bill agrees, "whenever I try and have a garage sale, I sit on my butt all
day, and end up having to haul most of the crap I put out to the dump. 
Usually a waste of time."   "Maybe," Gavin answers, pulling open the fridge
and removing the milk, "but it'd have to be pretty bad before it's worse
than unpacking all that stuff.  Besides," directing another grin at his
father, "Dad has some pretty nice things I bet I could sell off fast."  
"Quite a huckster you've got there," Bill tells his father.    "No
kidding," Al agrees.  "Tell you what, Gav.  I'll ignore how late you got
home last night, if you promise to help me with the garage next weekend. 
Deal?"   Gavin, about to pour cereal into the bowl he's taken out,
hesitates.  "All weekend?" he asks plaintively.    Al sighs.  "Nah, I'll
cut you loose and give you some time with your new friend."  His and Bill's
eyes meet, and they exchange a look Gavin cannot interpret.  "What's her
name?"   Gavin's face heats, and he concentrates on pouring cereal and then
milk into the bowl.  "Elena," he finally gets out.    His father doesn't
react, but Bill looks very amused.  "That wouldn't be Christine Bradburn's
kid, would it?"   "I'm sorry," Gavin says, "I don't know her mother's
name.  She has two sisters though."   "Yes," Bill responds, "Anna is nine,
and Kate is seven."  He flashes Gavin's father a thumbs-up gesture. 
"Christine's our company counsel."   "H'm, a lawyer's kid?"  His father
gives Gavin an appraising look.  "Tell me, Gav, has either one of Elena's
parents met you yet?"   "Uh," Gavin leans against the kitchen counter, and
spoons a bite of cereal into his mouth to stall.  Finally, "Not yet."  
"How about her sisters?"   "We only just met yesterday," Gavin complains.  
"Yes, well, your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to introduce
yourself to Elena's parents, and to have them call me.  Should you not
decide to accept your mission, I'm sure you can find other friends."  
Gavin sputters, "Call you?"   His father nods.  "Nonnegotiable."   Bill
glances at his watch, and then drains the coffee cup in front of him.  "You
done torturing the young Peter Graves here?"   "I think so."  He turns to
Gavin.  "Bill and I are going to a car show today."  Al hesitates for a
second, and then offers, "Would you like to come along?"   Gavin surprises
himself by actually thinking about his father's offer for a second, and
then shakes his head.  "No sir, I think I'll work on my mission."   --  
"Mom," Elena calls, putting down the clothes basket and knocking on her
mother's bedroom door.  There's a loud thump from inside the room, and then
silence.    She's about to go in, concerned, when her mother answers. 
"Yes, Elena?"   She sounds weird.  "I'm about to put a load of clothes in
the wash.  Anything you want me to add?"   Another silence, and then, "No,
but go ahead and come in for a second."   She opens the door, and finds her
mother sitting up in bed, a book in her hand.  "Yes?"   "Christine studies
her for a moment, and then smiles.  "You look much better today."   "Thank
you."   'Oral sex is very therapeutic that way.'   "Laura's Mom called me
last night."  Christine puts down the book, and Elena recognizes the
author's name, someone who writes science fiction.    'That's bizarre.' 
Her Mom hates sci-fi.    "They're going camping on their summer vacation
this year, and she asked if you and the girls would like to come."   Elena
is trying not to laugh.  Her focus since waking up has been Gavin; what, if
anything, to tell him about his Dad, and how hard to push their day old
relationship.  She's been walking around the house on autopilot, and this
reenactment of a previous viewing has caught her completely off-guard. 
It's not time to look down yet.    "Going where?" she asks.    "Enchanted
Rock," her mother answers.  "It's apparently one of the tallest rock
formations in the United States, and people go there every year to climb
it."   "Yeah," Elena answers, "I wrote a paper about it for English last
year."   She is seized with a sudden urge to change the predicted outcome
of this conversation.  Her mother is about to encourage her to go with
Laura's family, taking both Kate and Anna with her.  Originally, she had
refused to even consider going, and the tension of that refusal had only
been broken when she saw Bob.    "Well, how do you feel about going?"
Christine asks.  "I think you and your sisters might really enjoy it."  
Elena hesitates, just as she had in her viewing.  'Now, let's try this!'  
"I think me and my sisters might get heat stroke climbing up a rock in
June, but I'll do it on one condition."   Christine looks surprised.  She
had probably been prepared for a fight, not a bargaining session.  "What
condition?" she asks cautiously.    "If Mr.  and Mrs.  Ramirez don't mind,
I have a friend I'd like to come along.  He's just moved to Texas, and I
bet he's never been anywhere like Enchanted Rock before."   Christine
studies her daughter with interest.  "Your concern for your friend's
education is admirable," she says sardonically.  "Who ..."   Elena takes a
single step forward, and looks directly into her mother's eyes.  "His name
is Gavin, and his father and him just moved here from California.  I think
he's feeling pretty uprooted right now, and, yeah, I like him.  With Laura,
her family, Kate and Anna, and anyone else who might be going along, it'll
be a little crowded for tonsil exploration though.  But, we could maybe get
to be friends."   A loud sneeze comes from Elena's feet, and she looks
down.  Bob is lying on the floor beside the bed, covered with her mother's
bathrobe.  "Very well presented, Elena.  Um, good morning."   Elena sighs
theatrically.  "You guys need a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign.  You could've just
told me you were busy."   "We had sorta lost the mood by then," Bob
explains.    Elena looks away.  "I don't wanna know!"   Bob taps her foot,
and, when she looks back down at him, he raises a hand.  "I've fallen, and
I can't get up.  Help!"   Christine groans.  "Both of you are impossible. 
Elena, go do your laundry.  I'll talk to Sarah, and will see if she has
room for another guest.  But," she raises a warning finger, "I'm going to
meet this Gavin before you go anywhere together.  Got it?"   Elena smiles,
and turns towards the door.  "I'll make breakfast for Kate and Anna.  That
way," she says, smiling over her shoulder at her prone stepfather, "maybe
you two can recapture the mood.