Lady Reiki/Interlude I
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Continued from Metamorphosis: Muladhara
((This is a work of fiction. That is right – it is a giant pack of lies. The author did not feel like heavily researching things like places, history, or really any other fact that would add realism to the story. As such, almost all the people, places, and events mentioned in this story are completely fictional and exist merely to help with the story. The author did try to make an effort to match the story up with the game canon. More or less. As always, the author takes full responsibility for any typos, atrocious misuse and abuse of grammar, and the ever-present spelling errors. Should you find any glaring error that you feel must absolutely be fixed, please leave a note about it in the discussion section, and if I agree, I will go ahead and change it. Maybe. Now, sit back, suspend your belief, and enjoy!))
((Oh, right. Interlude I covers the time I hadn't accounted for (due to my poor math skills) between when Kina graduated from high scool and when she started college.))
Contents |
Friday, May 11th, 2001
“Good-bye!”
“Good luck!”
“You’re coming to my party, right?”
“I can’t believe we’ll be at the same college!”
“Wait, you haven’t signed my yearbook yet!”
“That’s so far… you’ll write, right?”
“I still can’t believe you managed to pass…”
Kina threaded her way through the throngs of celebrants. Hugs, well wishes, and celebrations swirled around her as the end of the graduation ceremony gave way to an impromptu party in the parking lot. She gripped her diploma in her hand as she tried to escape the jostling crowd of robed graduates, their friends, and their families. Small half-smiles were tossed to those that she accidentally made eye contact with, but she managed to keep from being drawn into any of the groups that seemed to spontaneously form, break apart, then reform in another spot. Kina looked at her watch and quickened her pace – she did not want to miss the last bus that would be doing that route this evening and be forced to walk. She certainly was not going to ask a classmate for a ride to get back to that place and risk comments about her lack of anyone at the ceremony. She broke into a sprint as she spied the bus pulling away from the stop and caught a lucky break – the driver actually saw her and stopped as she ran after the bus waving her mortarboard hat.
The walk up the road in her neighborhood was eerily quiet. Most of these people either had a child who had graduated tonight, or was somehow related to a graduate. Kina was grateful for the lack of people; she didn’t want anything else to delay her now that there was nothing more to hold her here.
She let herself into the duplex she had spent the past nine years of her life. Unsurprisingly, nobody was home. Kina was not actually sure when the last time was she had seen her aunts and cousin. It was a wonder, really, that Aunt Emily had not tossed her out of the house after Sarah’s death. She had stopped putting on a show about giving a care for Kina’s existence, but was able to garner understanding and sympathetic responses to that. Turning Kina out completely, however, probably would have brought a less desirable response from the community. Kina had spent the last five years with her existence ignored as much as possible by her three relatives. Wrapped in her own stony shell, Kina really did not mind – it was much better then those random times when one of them would take notice of her and proceed to rant and scream at her.
School had been harder. Kina had distanced herself from her classmates as much as possible, but at the same time she had to make sure that her actions did not lead to any more sessions from guidance councilors or lead to any teacher/guardian conferences. She did not want to talk to anyone about Sarah – especially to the councilors with their questions. Those questions might chip away at the wall she had built around that painful wound. Aunt Emily’s loathing of Kina actually was a plus for Kina, since there was no way she would consider shelling out the money on her detested niece the one time a professional therapist was recommended. So, as time passed and Kina made sure her grades stayed about the same as always and joined in the occasional school social event, attention from the adults lessened on her.
Kina shed her polyester robe required for graduation, letting it drop to the floor of the living room along with her square cap. After a moment’s consideration, she removed the silly tassel and put it in a pocket – it was not that she had hated the school, really. She combed her fingers through her now shoulder-length hair to get rid of that hat-hair look, and walked away, leaving the rest of her graduation ensemble on the floor. A somewhat immature act, perhaps, but Kina could not resist doing one last thing to irk the woman who had made her life unpleasant for so long. She idly wondered where her aunts and cousin were tonight. Many restaurants would be flooded with families celebrating the graduation and Kina doubted they would want to be anywhere where they might run into someone they knew on this occasion.
She headed into the kitchen next and began rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. A couple of colas and bottled waters were cooling in the fridge. Kina took those, as well as an unopened box of granola bars and a can of Pringles. Might as well scrawl ‘Kina was here’ ‘cross th’ walls… There was nothing else worth taking; nothing that could be easily packed without spoiling, that is. A bubble of anger welled up inside. It ain’t fair… It ain’t fair! She jerked the door to the fridge back open and began throwing everything over her shoulder to the kitchen behind her. It ain’t m’ fault!
A bottle of salad dressing hit something against the far wall. Both items fell to the floor in an almost cheery cacophony of tinkling glass. Kina turned to see the picture of her mother and aunts slowly disappear under a puddle of Ranch dressing. With a yelp, she ran to recover it. Kina carefully extracted the photo from the mess and wiped the dressing off her mother’s impish grin. After a second’s hesitation, she tore the photo of the Lynnley sisters, leaving the part with her aunts to sink back into the mess on the floor. Kina had never seen any other pictures of her mother; if they existed, they were likely in Aunt Jane’s possession and Kina did not have a key to get into her side of the duplex. No mementos, no inheritance, not even a physical resemblance – the only thing Kina had of her mother’s was now in her hands. Kina’s anger ebbed just as quickly as it had risen, consumed like every other emotion by that ever-present hollowness.
“C’mon, Ki-na-na, it’s time t’ get movin’.”
Her voice seemed unnaturally loud in the empty room. She took her chosen loot, pocketed the photograph, and headed up to her room. As she climbed the stairs, Kina’s mind began to churn with the thoughts that she had been putting off. She has to leave this place – there was no question about that. But, where would she go? She had ruled out college by the end of her junior year. There was no chance of Aunt Emily putting up a single cent for that, and, despite her best efforts, Kina’s grades were nowhere near what they needed to be to have even a chance of a scholarship. She could always get a bunch of student loans, but even those assumed you had some other income to at least cover basic living expenses. Kina had built up a small savings by working at a fast food joint as many hours as the law would let her and her own body could tolerate before the familiar fatigue hit. A few baby-sitting gigs added to the sum, but she knew this money would evaporate fast if she tried the college route. No, she would get a job now that she was out of school, but the question of where still remained. Her half-formed plans stopped at this point; at the moment, she was considering just buying a bus ticket to as far away as she could afford to go and figuring something out once she arrived.
Kina was mulling this over when she reached her room. A long white envelope pinned to the outside of her door caught her attention and broke the thoughts that were circling around her mind. Kina went into her room first, setting the food and drinks on her bed. She then returned to the hall and stared at the envelope. Nothing was written on the outside. She pulled the tack and the envelope off the door, then returned to her room. Sitting next to everything piled on her bed, Kina turned the envelope upside down and emptied its contents onto her bed.
Two pieces of paper fluttered down. The first was a small card – her social security card. Kina had her number memorized; after all, it seemed to be required for everything. Having the actual card in hand, though, meant she had a document to prove her existence in this world was legitimate. This was important to somebody who planned to travel and work away from where she had lived for so long. Kina turned her attention to the other paper, certain of what it would be. It was larger and folded in thirds. She stared at it for several minutes as the words sunk in. Kyle Connor Nivens… Rachael Sarah Lynnley Nivens… Kina Dealande Nivens… 22nd of April, 1983… 8315 Swallowtail Drive… San Cascara… Kina had never been certain that Aunt Emily had Kina’s birth certificate in her possession. The thought of tracking this down had seemed daunting, since Kina didn’t have much information to go on. With these two papers in her hand, though, she was now able to freely pursue a new life somewhere else.
Kina quirked a small smile. She found it surprising that Aunt Emily was surrendering these so easily. She had expected the spiteful woman to be completely uncooperative in obtaining these. But no, her aunts wanted her out of here just as much as she wanted to be gone. These were her eviction papers. Kina’s eyes flicked over the birth certificate once more.
“San Cascara, eh?”
She let the name of her forgotten hometown roll in her mouth. The name did not stir any memories – she had not really figured it would. However, it was the first new clue she had to her past.
“Guess that’s as good as a startin’ point as any…”
Kina pulled out her map of California and ran her finger along the index of cities as she searched for her place of birth. There – further to the north. Middling sized - larger then Tokkec’s Valley, her current residence. Ah, it was south of U Town, home of one of the state universities Kina had attempted to get a scholarship for. Kina stuffed the map back into her backpack. She added the Pringles and a couple of the waters to her backpack as well. The other drinks and granola bars were distributed between the two small suitcases that contained all her worldly possessions – mainly clothes plus a few trinkets she had received from Sarah over the years. Her newly acquired birth certificate and social security card, as well as the picture of her mother joined some pictures of Sarah in an envelope in her purse. She added the purse to her backpack, then shouldered the whole thing. Taking a (thankfully light) suitcase in each hand, Kina left the room she had slept in for the last half of her life. She hurried down the stairs and out the door. She paused as she locked the front door behind her, then removed the house key from her key ring and left the key in lock. Kina headed down the street, never looking back. A warm late-evening breeze blew behind her as she moved forward with her life.
Sunday, May 19th, 2002
The warm late-evening breeze did little to cool the room or the girl who had been occupying it for the last year. Kina lay on the floor, draped facedown across several lumpy beanbag chairs. She had been telling herself to get a move-on for the last hour. So far, though, she had only managed to successfully show that an object at rest would stay at rest unless acted upon by another force. A rumble from her stomach finally provided a loud enough complaint to set the rest of her into motion, albeit grudgingly. She rolled into a sitting position, then pushed herself up and wandered over to the sink. Kina splashed some cold water on her face for a little temporary relief from the heat. Patting her face dry with a washcloth - Better get th’ laundry washed, I guess – she looked in the mirror to make sure there were no dirt streaks left from her nap on the floor.
Tendrils of raven black hair had escaped the French braid that cascaded down her back and framed the somewhat gaunt face that stared back from the mirror. There were dark circles under blue eyes, which seemed to have lost some of the fire that burned behind them. Hmm. Oughta see what we have in cover-up at th’ store. Brushing a few strands of hair back, Kina deemed her appearance good enough for grocery shopping. She slipped on a pair of lightly tinted glasses, grabbed her purse, double-checked to make sure everything but a nightlight was off, and carefully locked the door to her room.
Her sneakers were silent on the stairs as she made her way down two flights of steps and out into night. Kina made her way quickly to the well-lit bus stop on the corner. It was not that it was a bad neighborhood, but there was no sense in taking any chances. Most of the people living in that area did not want to have their work visas revoked or, for those working without visas, get deported. Kina had picked up enough Spanish to know when it might be a good idea to cross to the other side of a street or find a crowd of people, but for the most part she had no problems. Kina looked up at the sky – the stars were pretty much obscured by the city lights. Car horns, radios, and people created that generic city cacophony that could swallow a person. Kina was glad for the relative silence of the bus. She stared out the window without really seeing anything as the city bus lurched from stop to stop until it reached her destination.
The 24-Hour Mart was bustling like always. Kina headed to the café section first, having a late dinner of a sub sandwich and some flavorless coffee. She pulled out a small note pad while she ate, making a list of what she needed and comparing it to her running budget.
Kina’s life had quickly settled into a rut since her arrival in San Cascara. After spending her first couple of nights in town at a homeless shelter, she had found her current dwellings. The place probably should have been on the condemned list, but the neighborhood was occupied mostly by immigrants (some legal, some not) who were unlikely to complain. The room she rented was rather small, most of the appliances did not work, and there never seemed to be any hot water. However, it was cheap, located near a bus route that took Kina to all the places she needed to get to, and in a relatively safe neighborhood despite the low-income status of most the residents. The small space of the apartment was not a big deal since she had very little to fill the place. Kina did not mind the lack of a working stove and oven – cooking was probably never going to be a strong point for her. She did miss the certainty of warm water during the winter months, but consoled herself that her quick showers were keeping her water bills low.
Kina did get a nice home-cooked meal once a week in exchange for babysitting the kids in the apartment below hers. Senora Carlos, her husband, his mother, and their four children lived in a room only slightly bigger then the one Kina occupied. Senora Carlos worked as a housekeeper at one of the hotels in the revitalized downtown area while her husband was in construction and would be away for days at a time depending on where the work was. Kina helped watch the kids several evenings a week and on Saturdays she would join them for dinner. Here, too, she would get the latest gossip on what was happening in the neighborhood and pick up some useful Spanish phrases. Kina sometimes used her employee discount at the convenience store that she worked at to purchase small essentials like batteries or milk for the family and notebooks, pens, and crayons for the kids. Although Kina was quite used to living alone, it did provide some protection to have it known that somebody was keeping an eye out for her. Being associated with a family made her a little less of an easy target.
Kina traversed the familiar aisles of the 24-Hour Mart, comparing prices on products and adding her chosen items to her shopping basket. Most of her needs were met at the store where she worked second shift. However, for fresh fruits and veggies, as well as a particular brand of breakfast bars and a certain flavor of coffee - that required a trip to one of the mega stores that dotted the cityscape. Kina wandered through the furniture section to see if there was anything on clearance that she needed. This was where she had gotten her impossibly hard futon bed, and the subsequent giant pillows to cushion the bed. She had also picked up her beanbag chairs here last year when a number of back-to-school items went on sale at the end of their season. Kina had considered applying for a job here thinking about the extra discount she could get on all these additional items, but the convenience store she ended up at was less of a commute (she could walk there and usually did as long as there was daylight and fair weather) and more flexible in its hours. She swung by the clothes department before heading to the checkout. Her current pair of jeans was soon to be transformed into cut-offs. Mebbe next payday.
From shopping center to bus stop. From bus stop to apartment. Up two flights and into her room. Put groceries away, prep the coffee maker, and set its timer. Gather the laundry, some quarters, and head to the basement. The nice thing about second shift was that Kina could sleep in every morning. It also meant that there was no competition for the laundry room during the hours she typically used it. Towels and underwear were tossed in one machine and clothes into another. Both loads went into the same dryer. Back up the stairs. Fold the laundry and stack it in the plastic bins she used in place of a dresser. Take a cool shower, brush her teeth, rebraid her hair, and pull on a long sleeveless tee for bed. Set the alarm clocks, turn on the fan, turn off the light, and drift into unconsciousness. Another undistinguished day became the past.
Monday, May 20th, 2002
By the time the third alarm clock went off, Kina was awake enough that she decided to give up on sleeping for the moment. The day was going to be another warm one and there was no point in spending it in the hot apartment. Mondays were Kina’s days off and usually held to a fixed, but relaxed schedule. Today, however, she had a deviation from the norm. Her photo card had finally arrived last week and now she could finally get her official driver’s license. Kina did not see a car in her near future, but she had decided to get a license to make obtaining everything else easier. It had taken some creative finagling to find cars and people willing to let her practice, but she had pulled it off. She did think the guy who had given her the driving part of the test looked a little too relieved when she mentioned she was unlikely to be driving anytime soon.
Newly laminated license in hand, Kina returned to her normal Monday schedule. The main branch of San Cascara’s library was in a beautiful old stone building with a bus stop right in front of it. Stepping into the quiet and cool air-conditioned interior set Kina at ease.
Kina set her backpack on a table in the archives section and snagged a librarian to get access to one of the microfiche machines. The library was in the process of moving all its archive information to computers, but the traditional lack of funds and volunteers that seemed to plague libraries everywhere had slowed the process. Kina had exhausted the obvious search options on the computer database early on, and now searched for any clue to her parents or her past page by miniature page through the microfiche viewer.
She had begun searching shortly after she had settled in to her apartment and secured a job. There were actually two Nivens in the phonebook, but neither were relatives. The name listed as witnessing Kina’s birth was determined to most likely be a midwife, although she was not registered with any of the hospitals or the Woman’s Care Center. The receptionist at the Center said she would ask around, although it was likely the woman was yet another immigrant and no longer in the area.
“It’s an all too common practice around here, given the level of poverty we see. Not that you’ll hear the city council acknowledge it,” the receptionist had groused. Kina had thanked her for her time and chalked up another lead as creating more questions then answers. Could her parents not afford proper medical care? Or did they have some other reason for choosing an alternative to the hospital?
The woman did have a point regarding the local politicians and their portrait of the community. The city was in the middle of a massive revitalization project thanks, in part, to a couple of big companies moving their operations and plants into the area. The downtown had certainly been spruced up and city council was focused on the positive steps that had been made in the hopes of attracting other businesses to the area. Questions regarding the problems the city still faced were sidestepped with the adroitness a politician gains after making a deal with the devil.
One of the areas slated for the urban renewal project was actually at the outskirts of town. However, it was near a site that was being eyed for some kind of factory and so the surrounding neighborhoods were getting a facelift to make the site as desirable as possible. Mariposa Heights was a suburb whose developers had grand dreams. Winding streets named for butterflies that were unlikely to exist in a developed area quickly fell into disarray as jobs and businesses left the area. Now though, many of the lots that had been long-abandoned were in the midst of rebuilding, including one that had held the place listed as Kina’s place of birth. With the renovations well under way, there was no longer anyone left in the neighborhood who might have known what had taken place so many years ago.
Kina wondered wryly if it was living among all those butterfly names that had inspired her parents to stick her with such a silly middle name. She had long ago abandoned use of it, even the middle initial. She got tired enough as it was of people asking her what her meaningless first name was from – Dealande just made it that much odder, even here in California.
This former address was one of her focuses of her current search. Until recently, her search had centered on her birth. Beyond finding her birth announcement listed in both the local papers, nothing else had come up. She had copied and printed those out as further proof of her past in this town. Now, though, she was focussed on the time right before she had been turned over to her aunt’s care. Since Kina was not sure how long she had been sick before the part of her life that she could remember began, the search involved a rather large date range to cover.
After several hours of flipping though another couple weeks worth of indexed headlines, Kina was set to give her eyes a rest when one article caught her attention. Explosion Rocks Mariposa Heights the bold letters proclaimed. Kina quickly located the page listed for the article. It had made the front of the local section of the San Cascara Sun (All the News You Need to Know) and was accompanied by a photo of a fireman silhouetted against a burning building. Kina rapidly read through the short article.
Mariposa Heights - A small building was destroyed last night in the 8000 block of Swallowtail Drive, and two nearby buildings suffered moderate damage from the flames. Six fire companies responded to the blaze, which took over three hours to contain. Neighbors as far as four blocks away heard and felt the explosion at about 8:45pm. The cause of the fire is under investigation. It is unknown if there was anyone in the building at the time of the explosion.
The brevity of the article suggested it was written just before the morning paper had gone to print. Kina checked the date – April 18, 1992 – and scanned the town’s other, smaller newspaper to see if it had anything else to say. The San Cascara Sentinel (Digging Deeper for You) had a small blurb on the second page of their local section. A quick scan reveled nothing new, so Kina went back to the Sun and moved on to the following day’s paper. The explosion was relegated to the third page, already. Although the article was a little longer, there was not much more information. A gas leak was believed to be responsible for the blaze. Nobody was currently in residence in that or the neighboring buildings, although neighbors had complained of squatters in the past. No bodies had been found in the remains of the building so far, although crews were still sorting through the mess.
The Sentinel had decided to run the article about the fire on the front page of its local section for the following day. Carrying the same tidbits of information, for the most part, the reporter had managed to dig up a few more facts of interest. The building was listed as being the property of The K.I.S.M.E.T. Research Institute of Corr. Contact information for the Institute seemed to be out of date, however, as calls received a ‘no longer in service’ message.
An announcement from the PA interrupted Kina’s research as patrons were informed that the library would be closing for the day, shortly. Kina printed off what she had discovered and stuffed the pages into her backpack. Her mind was whirling as she rode back to her apartment. She filed the newspaper articles in the small notebook that contained her birth announcement from both papers and a copy of her birth certificate then flipped to a blank page to jot down her thoughts and questions in regards to this latest discovery as she munched on an apple for supper.
Neither paper had listed the exact address for the building that burned. She would have to confirm that. Police and fire department records should be accessible for this information. She might be able to track down the reporters who worked on the story, too. She still had subsequent issues of each paper to go through, as well, which could tell her more. Like, did they determine for a fact that there were no victims in the fire? And then there was the Institute. It had been intimated that Kina’s father had been a researcher of some kind. Was he associated with this Institute? Maybe digging into them would yield some results.
“Did I live through a fire?”
Kina scoured her memories for anything from that potential past. There were the two silvery scars that ran along her shoulder blades – perhaps the product of shrapnel hurled by the explosion? She would expect burn marks, though, if she had been that close to a fire. And then there was her illness that seemed to block everything from before her life with her aunts began. Simple smoke inhalation would not have caused that, would it? Mebbe th’ place was covered in lead paint. She thought about the hazy fever dreams that had plagued her when she first struggled for awareness. There had been the sensation of heat, but that might have just been from her fevers. The nightmares from that time still would disturb her sleep on occasion (though less frequently then ones of Sarah’s death) but they never seemed to really involve a fire. A melody like a lullaby, claws on her back, a gentle push, a strong gentle voice speaks “chase the--- face the---”, and a general sense of fear – not much to go on at all.
A yawn, which threatened to split her face, signaled that her body was no longer interested in the subject of her past. Kina was tempted to call in sick for work and resume her investigation tomorrow, but the list of bills to pay that she had posted on the inside of her apartment door mutely discouraged this course of action. She mentally shrugged. After all this time, what was another week?
Thursday, May 23rd, 2002
“Twenty bucks on pump 4, plus these.”
Kina expertly scanned the milk, gallon canisters of water, and bread, gave the man his total, and collected the money. Gas and other essential items had been hot commodities since a few hours ago when the reports of the strange red portals that began appearing on some city along the East Coast made the news. Chuck, the store manager, had called some of his third shift crew in early to help with the increased flow of traffic, as well as prep the store for a potential early close. The third shift crowd could be best described as ‘big’ and ‘burly’ – one of several tactics to make the store a less favorable target for robbery during the wee hours of the night. Chuck was counting on their presence today to discourage any thoughts of panicked rioting. Several of the guys were boarding some of the windows up along the side of the store. The front ones would be done if the call to close came from management.
Several of the staff, including Kina, had already stocked up on these items. The fridge in the break room could barely be shut. For once, Chuck had said nothing about the rules when they brought the portable radio out from the break room so that they could hear any developments - a sure sign th’ world is endin’. Reports of more and more of the mysterious portals began coming in from across the country and around the world. The word came down to close up; not from the management, but the state of California. The store was shuttered up, pumps locked down, and the staff were given free reign to help themselves to whatever was left on the shelves. Kina added several flashlights and batteries to her stash of food, along with aspirin, Band-Aids, and disinfectant. After a moment’s thought, she picked up some more coloring books, markers, and crayons for the Carlos kids. Good-byes were a little awkward – no one seemed to know if they would be seeing each other for work the next day, the next week, or never again. This is so gonna wreck havoc wit’ m’ budget if this lasts too long.
Fortunately for Kina, the buses were still running. She had several bags of heavy items that she did not want to have to haul back to her apartment by foot. Kina stopped by the Carlos’s place first to drop off many of the items she had brought back. Her load much lighter, she went up to her apartment and stashed her own items. She pulled out her suitcases and a backpack. Putting her most important possessions in her backpack, followed by important, but not essential, items in the suitcases, Kina quickly prepped in case evacuation was necessary. She then went back down to the neighbor’s apartment since they had a TV where she could watch whatever was about to happen.
For the next several hours, Kina sat with them and watched the scenes unfold on the small TV screen. The evacuations, the destruction, the panic, the glimpses of the horrifying monsters, the heroes both super-powered and not who fought back. There was a break from the local station to announce that the local National Guard had been called up to help with getting people to safety in Los Angeles. So far, no portals had shown up closer then that to San Cascara. People were urged to stay put until further notice. Volunteer fire fighters, medical personnel, and the like were given numbers to call if they wanted to help in any of the areas that were getting influxes of refugees from the cities that had been hit. Someone came on to say a hotline would be set up as soon as feasibly possible to allow people to inquire after family in areas that had been attacked.
Through it all, Kina felt strangely calm. It was like she was just watching a movie on the TV. She had never put much stock in magic, the supernatural, or science fiction. She had been aware, sure, of what she had heard referred to as the ‘meta-humans,’ but she had never felt any connection between them and the world she lived in. While Grandmother Carlos prayed at the little shrine she had set up to the Holy Mother that they would be spared, Kina was numb to the threat of death. The thought of the grotesque aliens suddenly appearing and killing her brought no fear. It was not that she wanted to die. Rather it was that she had spent so many years not really living that she could not work up the energy to fear death.
Kina spent the following days keeping the Carlos kids occupied and watching as the war developed. A couple of cities around the world seemed to become the main points of contention between the Earthlings and the aliens called the Rikti. In the States, that place seemed to be one Paragon City, located in Rhode Island. Kina followed the reports of which side seemed to be in control, heroes who had made a difference, and those who had fallen in much the same way that she might have watched a sports match play out.
She was glad when she got a call from work to say they were reopening. Kina was not confident that government calls for bill collectors and the like to be lenient during the current situation would be heeded. She was also beginning to go a bit stir crazy. The library, most fast food spots, and all the other ‘unnecessary’ places were still closed by government decree.
At work, all anyone could talk about was the war. People had theories on the invaders, critiques on how it was being handled by various governments and groups, and whether people had word from loved ones or not. It was this last topic that was likely why Kina felt such a large disconnect from the events. She had nobody she really gave a damn about; had not ever since Sarah had died. And certainly there was not a soul looking for her during this. Kina had registered both her parents’ names in the database that was being set up to help people find out what happened to family members in the chaos of the invasion, along with contact information should someone be looking for her. It was a shot in the dark, she knew, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. The war continued at a few concentrated points, and those who lived in unaffected areas began to settle back into daily routines…
Mid July, 2002
Kina stared in disbelief at the letter in her hand. Several letters, really. Oh, and the check. I gotta be dreamin’… or mebbe it’s a hoax… The letters looked official enough. An acceptance letter from the state college indicating her initial deposit had been paid, along with instructions to complete her registration, forms to indicate how she would pay her tuition, forms to apply for tuition loans, and surveys to indicate her roommate preferences for the dorms. There was information on orientation and special notice that dorms would open early this year to help accommodate students coming in from the East Coast. This jist can’t be real…
The other letter had come with the check. Typed on stiff letterhead that was, in Kina’s world at least, usually reserved for final legal notices, it tersely outlined the following facts:
- A sum of money had been provided for Kina’s care under her aunt as well to help with any college or career aspirations that Kina had upon her graduation from high school.
- This fund was to be transferred to Kina upon her 18th birthday.
- This fund had been mismanaged and misused by aforementioned caretaker.
- The remaining sum was removed from the fund and sent to Kina (see enclosed check) for her to use as she saw fit.
- Given her current location and status, a certain state university had been applied to on her behalf and the initial deposit to secure her place there had been paid. Should she wish to pursue education or a life elsewhere, she merely had to notify the university by such-and-such date for a refund of the deposit.
There was no indication who the money had come from. The check and letter were both from the bank that had been in charge of the fund. But who’s th’ one who found out I didn’t know ‘bout this money? An’ who signed me up for college?
After thinking things over for a bit, Kina called the university. Yes, she was indeed registered with them. No, the person listed as registering and paying the deposit was Kina herself. Was there a problem?
“Uh, no, that’s fine. Thanks.”
Kina hung up and returned to the letters sitting on her bed. Well, that part is true ‘nough… Grabbing the check and her purse, Kina hurried down the stairs. If she was quick, she should be able to get to her bank before it closed.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent staring alternately between the letters and the balance in her bank account. She had never seen her account balance in a state so far from the number zero. Kina had left a message at the bank that had held her fund and issued the check. Perhaps they would be able to shed some light on who was responsible for this sudden shift in fortune. In th’ meantime… Her eyes drifted back to the acceptance letter from the university. Kina grabbed her calculator, some paper, and a pencil and began crunching numbers.
End of July 2002
It was a warm summer day when the bus pulled into town. The country was just beginning to recover from the invasion in May of that year. But life was returning to normal. This university town in northern California was filling up with students- some continuing the student life they had started in previous semesters, and others just beginning their college days.
The bus stopped at a corner. A tall girl with long dark braided hair, tanned skin, and dark glasses stepped off the bus. She lugged with her a couple of suitcases and an overstuffed backpack. No one was there to meet her, but that did not matter; no one had seen her off at the start of her trip, either.
The Carlos family had left a few days after the check and letter had arrived for Kina. They were joining up with one of the Senora’s sisters, whose husband and older son had been missing since the initial invasion. Kina’s final days at the apartment had been divided between filling out applications for tuition loans and putting in as much time at work as possible.
Her inquiries to the bank about the nature of her windfall had turned up a couple surprises, but no real new leads. The fund had been established by Grandmother Lynnley, who had died back in the August before Kina had been born. Grandmother Lynnley was actually Kina’s great-grandmother – she had raised the three daughters of her son and his wife after they had both died in a car accident, shortly after Kina’s mom had been born. Kina had only ever heard of her as being referred to as Grandmother Lynnley, though, so that was how she always thought of her. Kina had always been under the impression that her mother had been cut off from her family since she eloped. Grandmother Lynnley had obviously had some contact with her, though, if she knew that Rachael had a child on the way.
San Cascara had given Kina more questions about her past then answers. After several evenings of number crunching and evaluating her life, she had made the decision. It was time to leave her past behind and move forward.
She surveyed her surroundings.
“Look out college – Ki-na-na’s here.” She picked up her bags headed forward to meet the new life she had chosen.
Continued in Interlude II