Emelie picked the soil from under her fingernails as she walked through the library aisles, casually looking for books on fermentation and canning. Her grandmother’s passed-on knowledge of preserving proved helpful in improving the quality of the food reserves they were creating in the horticulture division, along with that of other team members who contributed various methods and techniques, but any additional resources were worth exploring. Just because they were the last surviving members of the human race didn’t mean they should suffer through decades of unpalatable food.
At the back end of the library, near the camera-less corner where she and Amir liked to sit, there were a few small tables and chairs set up in a study area. Emelie turned the corner to find Jacob seated alone at one of the tables, hunched over what looked like old letters and telephone books. She froze in place. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to run, but her feet remained glued to the carpet, her mind cluttered with a million conflicting thoughts, suspended in place, with none standing out as a potential course of action. In this mental stalemate, she noticed an energy radiating through the Field. It emitted from Jacob, although it was like nothing she had ever sensed from him before. His demeanour had a focus, curiosity, intent, and control. He wore earbuds and was gently bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music. She could feel the ease and flow course through his mind and muscles. Emelie noted a yearning for something growing within her. It bubbled and burned in her chest, building pressure in her cheekbones. Something about the way his carefree curls brushed against his cheek, or maybe it was how he tapped the toe of his sneaker on the leg of the chair while mouthing the words to a song only he could hear, reminded her of hot summer days when consequences didn’t yet affect her; mornings when she would rush to finish breakfast and run outside barefoot into the dew-dampened grass. Gripping the inside of her sleeve, it was as though her subconscious was grasping at some fleeting thing.
Emelie thought of Amir, who recently mentioned Jacob’s progress in the Field training sessions. She concluded that whatever drew her to him was too intriguing to ignore. She took several careful steps in his direction, trying to be obvious and not startle him, fearing what might trigger his projections. Jacob turned to see who was approaching. A look of awe and surprise washed over his face. It was clear she was the last person he was expecting to see.
“Hi.” He said in a near whisper.
“Hi,” she whispered back, a slight hesitation in her voice. She now battled a sense of guilt, looking into his large, glassy green eyes. He looked younger than before, only compounded by the tears that welled and spilled down his cheeks now despite his best efforts to contain them.
“Hey,” Emelie crouched down in front of him, instinctively touching his knee in a comforting gesture. She didn’t realize that she had touched him until she saw him staring at her hand. He was focused on controlling his reaction and succeeded.
“Look at you,” she said gently and with a hint of pride in her voice. She drew his gaze to meet hers and smiled at him, her face growing hot as the boy’s forlorn struck her suddenly. Jacob’s training was proving effective; however, some sensations were too overpowering to conceal. Propping herself up, she reached for him, ignoring the nagging voice of caution within her, and wrapped a single arm around his neck.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Jacob leaned his forehead against her shoulder and sobbed quietly.
“I’m so sor-”
“Shh. Really, Jacob. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
There was a sense of comfort in the embrace Emelie was unfamiliar with. Something Jacob’s heart ached for and yet she couldn’t recall ever experiencing. She was not close to her family - quite the opposite. This felt sickly sweet as it coursed through her, transfused unintentionally as Jacob’s control over his projection slipped with his loss of emotional control. Perhaps for the first time, Emelie didn’t mind. She held Jacob tighter, hoping he knew he wasn’t completely alone anymore.
“So, these were in her closet all these years, and she never mentioned them?” Emelie asked as she bent over a slightly water-damaged letter, seated next to Jacob.
“I guess so. She never mentioned them to me, anyway. My father may have known about them.” Jacob glided his index finger down the directory list of names one last time in vain. He knew it was a bit of a shot in the dark to search the old military records of an Australian military bunker for the name of a French soldier who had been writing his sweetheart during the Second World War, but Jacob didn’t much mind either way. It was a hobby of sorts ever since his belongings were returned to him after decontamination. He nearly forgot that he found the love letters among his mother’s things before leaving the family flat. In all, there were fifty-four letters between Emile and Mira. The couple had met at Sorbonne in 1938. They were no more than friends at first and would not fall in love until they were apart during the war. Emile was originally from Poland and would join the military when his family disappeared. Mira, an American from New York City, would return to the States before Paris fell.
“So, he was discharged from the army in January of 1942 due to an injury to his right leg and decided to go to New York to ask her father to marry her,” Emelie asked. Jacob nodded, pulling up one of the letters and scanning it quickly before handing it to her. She read through it and looked over the edge at him before continuing, “And her father refused? What a jerk!”
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Jacob laughed, “Right?!”
Emelie’s eyes darted back and forth down the page. Jacob could tell she was as fascinated by the romance as he was. He imagined it would have been the moment he would have had with his mother when she would have shared this with him. What had she been waiting for? Looking up at Emelie’s inquisitive expression, it almost seemed his mother had known that this was the proper introduction to the letters. They were always supposed to be discovered and reviewed in this manner by these people, in this place and time. He found himself almost reluctantly grateful that his mother hadn’t provided him with any context and that the letters would now be a part of a new story.
“He went to Montreal instead of returning to France so that he would be close to her. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” Emelie touched her fingertips to her lips.
Jacob leaned over to grab another letter from the pile. “While there, he also cared for an orphaned girl, which they later adopted. They got married in France so that they could adopt her.”
Jacob noticed a tear run down Emelie’s cheek as she read the letter he was now holding up. He placed a comforting hand on her back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “a little too close to home, perhaps,” she chuckled.
Jacob clicked his tongue, “Bien sur. You’re adopted.” Realizing she would not know that he knew that, he quickly added, “I saw it in the Field while training with Amir when we were still having trouble controlling our thoughts.” Emelie did not seem bothered by the revelation. She gently shook her head and, in an even tone, said, “No worries. I’d imagine they were lovely parents. They had a little boy after her as well. Just like mine. What a coincidence...” She sniffed as Jacob stood to reach for a tissue box nearby.
Emelie flipped the paper over to reveal a second page: a sheet of music. Each letter from Emile had an original composition sent with it, which he had written for Mira. His letters tended to be direct and almost formal, while hers were more loving and warm. Based on her responses, however, it was clear Emile expressed himself effectively in his compositions. To his first letter containing an original piece, Mira replied that she had fallen in love with him the minute she finished playing it.
“We need to hear these pieces, Jac,” Emelie insisted. Jacob could not help but smile at the inclusivity of her statement. “You had mentioned that your grandfather had taught you to play,” he began.
“Ah, I can play some, but these are pretty complex. I’m afraid my skills are too novice to do them justice.”
“What about Amir? Doesn’t he play a bunch of instruments?”
Emelie’s face lit up as she turned to face Jacob, pointing a finger and biting her bottom lip.
“Can you get him to meet us in the music room?” Jacob asked as they hurried to gather the letters up, only to be shh-ed by seemingly every patron in the library simultaneously.
“Sorry!” they both responded in a hushed tone.
…..
“This is really amazing, guys,” Amir said as he leafed through the stack of music and love letters. “Unfortunately, I never stuck with the piano. I could try it on the guitar, but it would sound different than intended. Sorry guys,” he shot back regretfully.
“No, it’s fine,” Emelie returned, sitting beside him. “It would have been something to hear them thought.”
“Well, maybe it’s the perfect opportunity to brush up on your skills,” Amir nudged her arm playfully. Emelie looked from Jacob to Amir and shrugged. “It’ll take a little while, but it’s not like I have anything else going on!”
“Damn it!” Emelie cursed under her breath as she clumsily stumbled through the bridge of a song from the letters. She’d been practicing for several weeks, but her progress was minimal.
“Try lifting your wrists,” suggested a high-toned voice from behind her. Caught off guard, Emelie swung around so sharply, she startled Claire who was standing only a few feet from her. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t know anyone was here.”
“It’s okay. I think I scared you first anyway.”
“I’m Em-”
“Emelie. I know. I remember. Claire. In case you don’t remember.” Emelie smiled. It was hard to forget a character like Claire.
“You’re weighing yourself down. That’s why you’re losing momentum.”
“I’m sorry?” Emelie looked at Claire blankly.
Claire reached out and, with a cold, delicate hand, took Emelie by the right wrist. She had the stature and demeanour of a school teacher. Emelie fought off the urge to burst into laughter. “Your wrists are vacationing in Brazil when they should be in the Mediterranean.” Emelie bit down hard on her tongue and nodded. Claire’s spirited rendition of angry headmistress soon softened to Emelie’s relief and disappointment.
“Claire, how long have you played the piano?” the pieces fell into place as Emelie formulated the sentence. Amir, get Jac and meet me in the music room, she urged Amir through the Field.
“Oh, all my life, I think. I can’t remember not being able to play.”
On it, Amir returned.
“What do you think of these songs? Are they something you could play?”
Claire reviewed the small stack of sheets Emelie had handed her. “Certainly. Who are they by?”
“Original compositions.”
“Not by you, obviously,” Emelie cringed at the harshness of the insult. “Nope, certainly not. They were composed by a relative of a friend of mine. He has actually never heard them before. Would you be so kind as to play them for him? He is on his way now.”
Claire shrugged, “Sure, why not.”
Once everyone settled in alongside the piano, Claire took her place on the bench. Jac leaned over to place one of the sheets before her.
“Which one did you pick?” Amir whispered as Jacob sat back down between Emelie and him.
“The first one,” Jacob replied.
“Good choice,” Emelie added.
“Shall I play the song, or would you like to chit-chat a little while longer,” Claire said without looking over at them. Emelie felt the sense of splendour and adoration rise in Amir as he looked at Claire with a bewildered expression shared by Jacob. Once Claire began to play, the space flooded with shifting moods and tones of mesmerized affection, adoration, infatuation, and burning desire. Each note carried a token of some unique quality, touched and transformed by each one of them and passed among them in communion. As the final keystrokes rang out, they settled back into their separate bodies but were no longer alone in their flesh. Each took a piece of the other with them back into themselves as a keepsake of the journey that would bond them to that moment and eternity.
END OF BOOK ONE