Daughter of a Preacher

Every other day was the same, I would walk into my least favorite bar and order my least favorite drink.

“The usual?” The bartender asks with a solemn look on his face.

He pities me every time. “Yeah.”  

A few seconds later a glass slides down the bar top and into my waiting hands. Good Ol’ Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey. Don’t get it twisted, it is not a bad drink, it’s just bad for me. My fingers tread carefully around the rim of the glass as I stare into the brown abyss begging me to devour it. After a few long, excruciating seconds, I grip the glass and toss it back. The heat with subtle notes of caramel and warm oak soothes the back of my throat. I drop some dollars on the bar top as I leave quickly and quietly out the door.

Apollo’s rays hit my brown eyes as I wince at the sudden intrusion of his light evading my sight. I throw on my ball cap and walk a few blocks over to the bay. The leaves dance as the wind whistles a lovely tune, it is Fall. The leaves are already turning to rustic colors, and the air is slightly chilled. Still, I feel like crap. I don’t hate life or loathe anyone for that matter, I just don’t understand individuals and people don’t get me. So, it’s mutual.

I find my way to my least favorite spot, leaning over the rail while peering into the still waters of the bay. It calms me more than a drink does, but it stirs something deep within me. I can’t place the feeling, but as I stare into deep waters, I become lost.

 Every day at 5 pm, like clockwork I would see her across the bay looking directly at me. I don’t know her, I am sure of it, but it is an annoyance. I pretend she doesn’t exist as always and she disappears. I look up to the sky and the clouds race in shifting Apollo’s light elsewhere, darkness steps in. Maybe rain? I don’t recall the forecast saying anything about rain but who am I kidding? I don’t watch much television these days, just the back of my eyelids. I look up to where she normally stands, but she’s gone, again.

Children and people chatting away, excited about Halloween. I couldn’t give a damn about any of it. I am not miserable, just indifferent.

“Do you mind if I stand here?” An unfamiliar voice asks me. I turn my head, and I’m faced with dark blue orbs, as turbulent as the black sea. I nod, giving her my permission to stand next to me. I turn back to look at the water.

I inhale, “Why do you stare at me from across the way?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

Her dirty blonde hair falls around her face as she fiddles with the camera strap around her neck. “I remember one afternoon, I was on the job, taking pictures for a magazine of random people around the bay and there you were all by yourself staring up at a dark gray sky.” Her cheeks turn a rosy pink as she looks at me. I connect my eyes to hers, searching for something familiar. Nothing.

“A young woman staring up at the sky made you come out here almost every day to catch a glimpse?” I ask quietly. Who is this stranger?

“No, it was late September of last year, and I have seen you before. The moment I saw you cry, I was changed.” She brings her camera to her face, points, and shoots at a random person. She continues, “Every day I would see you only in the Fall, and you seemed more broken than you were before. It seemed you held all your feelings deep inside you and in this place,” she looks around the bay.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in the back of my throat, and I turned to look at this stranger before me, speaking to me as if she knew me, knew my secrets. But she didn’t know anything but my vulnerability.

“Who are you and why do you feel that I am a project for you to figure out?” I ask harshly. I wanted to run, I wasn’t afraid of her, but more scared of what she sees when she looks at me. The mask falls when I am out here, just staring.

She steps back, “Seeing you carrying whatever deadweight you wear on your shoulders made me gravitate towards you. I wanted to hold you, I wanted to make it go away.”

I furrow my eyebrows, “You don’t know me.”

She tentatively places her hand on my arm. “But, I want to know you.” She brings her camera up again towards her eyes and snaps a picture of me, staring at her.

I walk closer to her and whisper. “Who are you? Please do not make me ask you again.”

She looks at her camera and frowns a bit, “I’m the daughter of a preacher. But do you know who you are?” She holds her camera tightly as she continues to stare at her camera screen. I scoff as I turn my back towards her.

“I know who I am.” I begin to walk away, and she grabs my arm turning me to face her. “Lady, you need to back off.”

“You may know who you are, but don’t have a clue as to what you are, do you?” She walks closer to me, the gold cross hanging from her neck shines a little too brightly. “Look.”

She turns the camera screen around so I can see it and what I saw was unbelievable. “What in the hell…That-that isn’t me. That…”

She cuts me off, “That thing is beautiful, that thing is hurting, that thing is you.” She looks to me with sympathy but not with disgust. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m a damned demon!” I hiss at her. “This is not happening, I can’t deal with this.” I begin to panic, and the clouds are rolling in deeper, darker as the winds pick up. People are running to find shelter indoors as mother nature is showing slight aggression.

“You have to calm down. You are doing this. Your emotions are affecting the weather maybe among other things. But it looks like you are only half.” She seemed relieved for some reason.

“HALF OF WHAT?” I scream over the winds. When I grabbed her shoulders, my mind was transported to my earliest childhood for a split second, and then I had been forced away from her, twenty feet away. I felt the pain of my lower back as my body slammed against the ground. I stand up and there she was staring at me. She looked in pain.

“Please don’t ever touch me without my permission again. It hurts…it hurts too much.” She screams at me. I run up to her and notice her cross again, this time my hands shoots out to touch it, but she slaps my hand away. “Don’t, it can hurt you.”

“Half of what…?” I question her again.

“Half a demon,” she whispers. 

My heart stops for a split second as I fall to my knees. The wind stops, the dark clouds began to disappear, and Apollo’s Sun starts to shine. “I want to help you. But I can’t do that without your permission.”

Tears fall slowly down my cheeks, salting the earth. “Can you stand the tears of a demon?”

She kneels in front of me, “I can withstand anything, including you.”

“I have to go,” I stand up quickly wiping my tears away. “I just have to find them.”

“Find who?”

“My parents, I think I saw them when I touched you. I know I was adopted, but I never cared to look for my parents, until I saw them in my head when I felt you.” I push past her.

“No. You can’t! It’s forbidden. You were not supposed to see that.” She warns me, her eyes growing darker than before.

“Well, you are a stranger, and you will get out of my way.”

“I am begging you, please don’t look for them.”

“Why in the hell not?”

“Because you were not supposed to exist for another ten years…” She trails off. Her face is unreadable as I stare at her with disbelief and shock. “I can’t tell you too much, it’s not my place. I’ve already said too much.”

Her voice knocks me from being buried in my thoughts, “I-I don’t know you, and since you invaded my space you have flipped my world around. I don’t believe any of this, and I don’t want anything to do with you.” I brush past her and our shoulders connected, I quickly fall to my knees as visions disrupt my thoughts. She drops to one knee to comfort me as I press my fingers on my temples. “What the hell…” I trail off.

“You received another glimpse of your past, I am assuming.” She states. I shake my head in disagreement.

“No, this was something different. Like, frigid cold and disfigured demons gathered around this person or thing…I don’t know.” I stand up a little unnerved. “Please don’t follow me.” I walk away towards my destination. My ears begin to ring then I hear talking. “Who is that?”

“This isn’t good. She saw not only her past but our future. I don’t know what to do, now she has tapped into her powers, how will I get to her in time?” She asks the gentleman who approached her.

“Well, daughter, more reason to get close to her and get her on our side of this fight. Legion cannot know he has an offspring. Furthermore, he certainly cannot know she is able to walk in both worlds, maybe even more.” The 55-year-old man sighs as he puts his hand on her shoulders.

“Father, what can I do?”

“You are the Daughter of a Preacher, and you are the first of your kind, you can do anything.” He states.

It takes me a few seconds to realize I’ve stopped walking. How do I hear a conversation from so far away? Slowly I turn around to look in the direction I just came from, squinting to make out the fuzzy outlines of the woman I left behind and the man who joined her. I shake my head to try to sweep away their words from my memory. Who is Legion and what does he have to do with me?

With a sigh, I turn back around and keep walking away, determined to put this whole confusing incident behind me and forget I ever saw…whatever it was I saw when I touched her.