The Meridians(65)

"You want Kevin to be tested?" said Lynette, and now she did withdraw her hand from his, and it felt like a substantial part of Scott's life had departed with it.

"No," said Scott, both aching for the return of her hand to his and at the same time wondering at how much of what he had thought was dead inside that this woman had managed to awaken. "I don't think it would be a good idea for anyone to test Kevin. I meant I think we should just send these papers anonymously, via a made-up email or something, to some physics professor at the U of I or Boise State or some other college around here; see what they say."

"What do you think that could tell us?"

Scott shrugged again. "Don't know. Though I suspect that whoever we send the stuff to will either want to fall down at the feet of whoever wrote it and worship him, or will want to stone him as some sort of modern-day practitioner of dark arts." He grinned, but there was more than a little bit of seriousness hiding behind the uptilted corners of his mouth. "Those are the two most likely responses in academia whenever you do something extraordinary."

And that was the end of things. Sadly - very sadly, he reflected - there was no more hand-holding. Not that Lynette grew angry or withdrawn in any way; she was still as bright, interesting, and interested seeming as she had been at any time in the night. Just the moment for hand-holding had passed, and both of them seemed to know it equally.

He bid her goodnight soon after, promising to call her the next day as soon as he awoke so they could talk some more about this mystery that not only fascinated them both but, he suspected, was also a matter of survival for them all.

The drive home was more difficult than he would have believed. Not only was he going back to an empty house, but he was going back to a house that he now knew would seem even more empty than ever before, because not only was he alone...but Lynette was not going to be there. That sounded like a silly thing to say, even in his own mind, but he knew it was true. Something had happened tonight, and being alone no longer meant merely that he was in a place where no one else was present. It meant being in a place - even a crowded room - where Lynette was not at.

And Kevin. Kevin, who was so beautiful of face that it made Scott want to cry, so soft of spirit that he couldn't even look at you straight on because such a connection would overwhelm his tender heart, so good of soul that he had braved the terror of being alone in a supermarket parking lot - something that Lynette had impressed on him was completely extraordinary in much the same way that a man throwing himself on a hand grenade to save his comrades would be - in order to save a stranger and her baby.

Kevin who was just about the same age Chad had been when taken from Scott.

But unlike most boys that age, who just made Scott ache with longing and sadness, Kevin made him feel...whole. As though he had found someone who, while not replacing Chad or usurping his position as Scott's son in any way, had nonetheless found a way to heal the open wound in Scott's heart that Chad's passing had left behind.

Kevin and Lynette. Lynette and Kevin. A family.

His new family.

What? he thought in surprise. Where did that come from?

But he knew the answer even as he asked it. It came from the same place that his life with Amy had come from.

For the second time in his life, Scott had found people who made him remember what it was to live in the happiness and almost unimaginable wonder of "once upon a time."

Once upon a time, Scott Cowley found a second family.

He smiled.

Then he felt the steering wheel spin under his hand. For a split second he thought that something had gone dreadfully wrong with the steering in his car. But only for a split second.

Because in the next fraction of a second he realized that he had turned the wheel. And not merely turned it; he had spun it like a stunt driver rounding a corner of an obstacle course, like a presidential driver spinning the wheel of an armored limo to avoid a hail of machine-gun fire.

And in the fraction of a second after he realized that he was the one doing it, he also realized why. It was his sixth sense again, his cop sense. Picking up on something that he had not noticed consciously until several eternally long moments later.

Scott looked around and, even as he continued spinning the wheel to catch up to what he had seen, he felt his jaw drop in horror, surprise, and rage.

Not tonight, he thought. Not this night, not this wonderful night.

As quick as that, all thoughts of the wonders of Kevin's mind, the joys of Lynette's smile, and the terrifying magnificence of once upon a time all flew from his mind, replaced by a single thing.

Mr. Gray. Standing in an alley on the side of the street.

Smiling at him.

Beckoning to him.





***





31.

***

There was no mistaking it this time. This was not John Doe, or any other old man. This was actually Mr. Gray, and he was - unbelievably - waving in a chipper manner to Scott. As though the two were best friends and Mr. Gray wanted nothing more serious than to say hi to a passing pal.

Scott kept spinning the wheel, feeling his car fishtail beneath him, but even after eight-going-on-nine years, he still retained enough of his driving skills that he was able to maintain control of the car as it turned.

He brought it around so that it was directed at the alleyway, and gunned the engine.

Mr. Gray turned, and ran into the alley.