1 - The Awakening

“Rare.” I heard myself speaking as if from a distance. I quickly looked away from the waiter’s almost nervous surprise and ignored Luke’s questioning expression. To be honest it surprised me as much as anyone else when I said. I found I couldn’t bring myself to speak up to change the order, though. The waiter hurried off, no doubt to have a whispered conversation with the manager as well as the cook.

No one ordered a rare steak anymore. Not after all the hype about various diseases known to pass through insufficiently cooked meat. Restaurants were even more leery about it because even one illness could ruin them. I felt guilty knowing I was putting them in an unenviable position with my request. Where had it come from? I hated rare meat even before that issue with disease started years ago.

“So…” Luke cleared his throat nervously, his deep brown eyes attempting to catch mine. “What brought that on?”

A sigh escaped me as I tried to figure out why I suddenly had a craving for a rare steak. Luke had known me since we were children and we had found ourselves falling into the ‘high school sweetheart’ category. Even a few wild college years hadn’t been enough to pull us apart. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve got them sweating already and I doubt they even have the meat on the grill yet.” He chuckled, glancing over my shoulder where there was no doubt a manager standing on the other side of the room attempting to get up the courage to ask me to change my mind. “Maybe you should…”

“Sign a waiver… yeah. I came to the same conclusion. I don’t want to cause trouble.” I sighed and stood, turning to see the well-dressed manager on the far end of the room. He was trying unsuccessfully to reassure the waiter that everything would be alright. The poor, portly little man seemed just as worried. Both froze as they glanced up and saw me approaching.

“Ma’am…” The man began but I held up a hand.

“It’s alright.” I gave him my best smile and spoke quietly so the patrons nearby would not overhear. “I would be happy to sign a waiver stating that if anything should happen I will neither take legal action against you nor speak the name of this restaurant. I will claim to have cooked it myself. I am not concerned, though. I have every confidence in the quality of your food.”

He gave me a relieved smile and motioned me to follow him. Once the door to his office was closed he sat behind his desk and shuffled papers as he spoke. “Thank you for offering to do this, ma’am. Though I doubt there will be a problem, most of our staff have been paying far too much attention to the news. They keep forgetting how often the stories there are exaggerated.”

“Exactly!” I laughed. “I doubt the problem is nearly as big as stated and I have absolutely no desire to put people out of jobs.” I took the waiver from him when he offered it and signed at the bottom. After a brief handshake I returned to the table while the cook was informed it was okay.

“You know…” Luke began after a brief and unusually awkward silence. “This isn’t the first strange thing you’ve done lately.”

“Oh?” His comment was genuinely surprising and I tried to think of anything else.

“I suppose it isn’t anything big, really.” He laughed nervously as he ran a hand through his pale, shaggy hair. “Just… little things.”

“Like what?” I couldn’t think of a single thing I had done differently lately.

“Well… you stopped drinking milk. You’ve been staying awake later, you have nightmares almost every night,” He began counting each off on his fingers and it occurred to me that he’s been waiting for some time to bring this up. I had wondered why he seemed so preoccupied. “You have migraines at least once a week, you use more spices when you cook- Hell, I couldn’t even eat that chili. The cayenne just about burned a hole through my tongue! What’s up with you lately?”

I shook my head, at a loss for words. I could explain my surface reasoning but not the cause behind that. Milk simply didn’t taste good anymore. I hadn’t been getting tired until nearly four in the morning even though my schedule hadn’t changed. The nightmares… I remembered nothing of them. All I know is that I wake suddenly with my adrenaline racing and Luke holding me with fear in his eyes. Bright lights had begun to trigger migraines so I’ve had to wear sunglasses most of the day and rarely drive at night thanks to the increasingly popular LED headlights that seem to cut straight through my skull. My taste buds seemed to have changed a little recently as well and most food tasted bland without a good dose of pepper or strong flavors like onions and garlic. I could explain all that to him… but what good would it do? There would still be the question as to why.

“And then there’s that.” Luke said, watching me.

“What?” I asked, shaking away my thoughts and wondering what I had been doing.

“When you aren’t focused on what’s going on around you, you go still. Completely still. Like a statue. I don’t think you were even breathing just now. You didn’t used to do that.”

“I… didn’t notice.” I said lamely. Of course I didn’t notice – he had just pointed out it happened when I wasn’t paying attention.

“Did something happen recently while you were at work?” He asked.

“Nothing I can think of.” I said after a moment. I work in an antique and second hand shop. The old man who owns it has developed health problems that make it difficult for him to run the place by himself. Of course it’s difficult to pinpoint a strange occurrence in the shop since strange things happen all the time. There are a lot of unusual people who manage to bring in even more curious items.

“Hmm… Is there a history of anything like this in your family?” He asked, smiling as the waiter set our food down in front of us before hurrying away. He picked at his pasta thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. You know how much I hate talking to Mom…” I muttered, cutting the steak. The pink meat in the middle simultaneously disgusted and appealed to me as the juice began pooling around the pieces. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in years, our contact limited to greeting cards on holidays and birthdays. After Dad died she started pushing me to move back home and return to college. She seemed to think I should study to become the curator of a museum. I don’t know how much I’d like that, though. I like the relaxed pace of the antique shop. I’d be scared to touch anything in a museum.

“Maybe it’s time. I bet she misses you but she’s too proud to say anything.” He said with a knowing grin.

I shook my head but couldn’t help but smile a little at the absurdity. My mother had been born to a wealthy family and had been to private schools, etiquette lessons and all that stuff I’m glad I never had to sit through. She looked almost regal even first thing in the morning. Where most people reach for the alarm clock on waking, she grabbed a brush. Never a hair out of place, never an uncontrolled word, never an apology or backward glance once she made her mind up about something. We argued over my career choice, love choice and general life choices the last time we talked. She wanted me to drop it all and return home where she could supervise and make sure I succeeded in life. I told her she was a domineering bitch and needed to keep her nose out of my life. She said she would and hasn’t spoken to me since. I didn’t look forward to the conversation we would have next but I knew Luke would never give up until I at least tried to talk to her. The only way she’d accept me back in her life was if I agreed to do what she wanted.

“She doesn’t miss me and I don’t want to talk to her.” I muttered around a heavenly bite of steak. I seemed to get hungrier as I ate, quickly spearing the next piece and not bothering with the steak sauce.

“Are you still worried about her trying to talk you into dumping me?” He asked, his amused smile fading as he watched me eating with near desperation. He set down his fork, his forehead wrinkling in concern.

When the last piece was gone I felt a brief pang of disappointment followed immediately by a sharp need for more. My adrenaline began pumping and I felt myself tense. An electric jolt of fear cut through me and I closed my eyes as I realized how much I wanted more… more meat… raw, bloody meat…

“Miranda?” Luke’s voice sounded weak and scared. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me with uncertainty. A quick glance around showed that most of the people nearby were staring at me, every eye trained on me seemed vacant. “Maybe… we should go…”

“Yeah.” I whispered, looking at the faces still motionless and expectant around me. The world felt unreal in the moment as Luke dropped a couple of fifty dollar bills on the table and we hurried out. The meal was almost half that but I didn’t object to the large tip.

Once in the car Luke took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back into the headrest.

“What,” He asked after a long silence. “was that?”

“I don’t know.” It was unsatisfactory but it was the only answer I had.

“You’ve said that a lot tonight. I’ve never seen anything like that. Hell, I’ve never felt anything like it.” He shook his head, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Felt?” I asked weakly, starting to realize more and more just how strange my life had managed to get in a staggeringly short amount of time.

“It was…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “It was a need. A need to be as close to you as possible but I couldn’t move for a minute there... I don’t doubt everyone else felt the same way… but why? What did you do?”

I shook my head, not even able to speak this time. My throat had constricted as tears came to my eyes. I’d never heard that tone in Luke’s voice before… wariness bordering on fear. The rest of the ride home was silent and he settled in his favorite chair, pretending to watch TV while covertly observing me. I started to read but feeling his eyes on me, I soon gave up and went to the kitchen to clean. That took too little time and I was soon unable to do more than stand in the door to the living room fidgeting.

Finally, exasperated, I grabbed the car keys and slipped out the door pretending I didn’t see his look of relief as I passed the living room door. He didn’t ask where I was going or when to expect me back. I felt a sinking in my stomach as I slipped behind the wheel and turned the key. I listened to the persistent dinging that was reminding me to buckle up. It took a long time to force my hand to obediently fasten the safety belt and put the car in reverse. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to go back. I swore I never would… but Luke might be right. Mother might have answers.

With a frustrated groan I turned the car on the half forgotten path back to my mother’s house.