Between the Spirit and the Dust

Chapter Five

“I’m not letting you do this, Emily. I don’t know what she told you or why you signed those non-disclosure agreements but you’re still under-age. You still need my permission. And, as far I’m concerned, you’re not going to take the next semester off."

I replied, softly, “Dad, I need to go. I want to go. 

He stared me, like he didn’t know who I was anymore. And maybe I didn’t know who I was either. I used to be the good kid, the one who listened and followed the instructions. Sylvia had been the one who pushed the boundaries, who fought back and always asked for more than he was willing to give. It had never been my place to do that. But roles could change and here I was, picking up where Sylvia had left off 

“You’re telling me you want to go on some wild chase and that you think you can help in some way by doing that?” Dad’s voice cracked at the last word. “Why would you ever think that?”

“It’s not a wild chase, Dad. Evie’s got connections to the FBI and—”

“That’s just it, Emily. She’s with the FBI now, they’ve got all the resources in the world. Why would they need an eighteen year old girl to help them? I don’t understand it. I don’t understand any of it.” Dad sat down heavily, slumping in his favourite chair. He covered his face with his hands and his shoulders started shaking. It took me a moment to realize that he was crying. He mumbled, more to himself than to me, “You’re the only kid I’ve got left. I can’t let you do this.”

With that, I felt like taking back everything that I’d said earlier. That I didn’t really want to follow Evie back to Headquarters, that I wasn’t serious about working on the case, that I didn’t mean to make my father cry.

But the problem was that I did mean everything that I’d said. I wanted to learn about what being an Empath meant and to help. We’d come to a stand-off and there was nothing I could say or do that would make any of this better 

Footsteps pattered closer as Mom approached us, her face pale and tired but full of calm resolve. She spoke the first words that I’d heard her say since I’d come home, “You need to let her go, Martin. Emily needs this.”

Dad shook his head disbelievingly but said nothing, still hiding his face behind his hands 

I turned my head towards Mom, waiting to see her reaction to this. She sat down next to Dad, his expression gentle as she laid put her arm around him. Mom continued, in a stronger voice, “It’d always been Dad’s idea to name the two of you after two of the greatest American writers. Sylvia Plath and Emily Dickinson…he had such high hopes for the two of you.” She smiled wistfully. “Me, I didn’t have such grand dreams for you guys. I just wanted you to be happy and healthy.”

Mom lifted her eyes up to meet mine. Her eyes were wet, full of unshed tears but she refused to cry. Instead, she told me, “Go do what you need to do, Emily. But come back to us. Come back to us safe.”

 ***

I had finished packing my bags and sat outside my house, waiting for Evie to come. I’d spoken to Max earlier on and another team was going to go by his house to get him. I didn’t ask how he’d managed to convince his parents to let him take the semester off.

A black car came to a stop outside our house and Evie stepped out. She looked around, as though expecting Dad to come strolling out of the bushes to see me off or something. I felt a pang of sympathy for her, for how much she wanted to speak to Dad and how blatantly Dad was avoiding her. So I threw Evie a bone and said, “They’re here. Dad wasn’t very…happy about this thing so they both left.”

“Oh, I see." 

Evie casted another indecipherable glance at my house while I put my bags into the car. I’d packed as efficiently as I could but I’d brought a little of everything, because I didn’t how what I would need. I’d also carefully included the files that Evie had passed to us the day before. The both of us got in before Evie gestured at our driver and the car peeled off my street.