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I adjusted my thick black glasses as the small plane coasted over the ocean. They’re strange glasses, as they have no lenses. Just sheets a plastic across my eyes, totally blocking off all vision. But that was what they were made for. If I was able to see anything, anything at all, the visions would come at full force. The shock could kill me.
“Where are we headed today Franklin?” I asked the agitated-looking man next to me. Franklin jumped and nervously scanned the clip board he was holding.
“To a-a-a-an island sir.” He stuttered. “There is a wealthy tribe living there. Their ch-chieftan just passed away, and they want you t-to see who is destined to be the next one. Oh, I d-do hate flying!”
I ignored Franklin’s whining and adjusted my seat slightly as the plane began to land. A slight bump could be felt as we touched down. The cabin was flooded with the scent of crisp sea air as the doors of the plane were opened.
“Do they speak our language?” I asked Franklin as we began to gather our things.
“Yes. I believe so,” Franklin said with a relieved sigh. “I much prefer the ground to the sky. Not made for flying you know,” he added brightly, but I was already headed toward the door.
“Sir! Be careful!” Franklin called after me. “You don’t know the area. You could get yourself hurt!”
Ignoring him again, I hoped from the plane. “What’s the weather like?” I asked as I landed on the ground. Franklin followed, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun.
“Sunny, with clear skies. Why?”
“Bring along an umbrella or two,” I answered without answering the question. Franklin didn’t say anything more, but proceeded to dig two umbrellas from our luggage, which was stored in a hatch under the plane.
I stood absolutely still, listening to our surroundings. I could hear bird calls and leaves being rustled by the wind. There was clearly some sort of jungle nearby. I bent over and felt the ground. Hard, like asphalt. So these people weren’t completely primitive. There was a rustle to my right, and suddenly a deep voice boomed heartily “Welcome, Great Sight!”
I said nothing as I was embraced by the stranger. I could tell by the squeeze that this man was tall and well built. He wore no shirt and his skin was hot from being in the sun for many hours. “I am, in your language, Storm Cloud. You are younger than I expected.”
I was silent. My mind was reeling. This was usually the part where Franklin introduced me.
‘Hello!” Right on cue. “Thank you for allowing us to visit your beautiful island! And yes, Master is very young, only fifteen, but I can assure you his visions are reliable!” Franklin beamed. His arms were full of luggage, and the two umbrellas were balanced dangerously at the top. I grabbed one and opened it.
“Oh you won’t be needing that,” Storm Cloud began, clearly puzzled. Suddenly there was a thunder clap and it began to pour. I stood, silently holding the umbrella over all three of us as Storm Cloud gaped at the rain. He suddenly broke into a grin.
“They don’t call you the Great Sight for nothing!” he exclaimed happily. “You are probably worn from traveling, so the village doesn’t expect you to do The Seeing until tomorrow. You will be spending the night with our village elder. She is a very wise woman, also in tune with the spirits.”
“Wonderful,” Franklin said as we followed Storm Cloud down a path through the jungle. I felt plants rub against my ankles as we walked. At their touch, my mind whirred for a moment, but soon I was back in focus. I sighed softly when the world felt balanced again. Several minutes later, our group came to a stop.
“What a cute little place,” Franklin said happily. “It’s a small little village Master! Just like pictures in books.” Storm Cloud laughed.
“The Elder’s home is right over there. We will see you at the feast tonight.” He said, entering the rain and leaving Franklin and I alone under the umbrella. As soon as he was out of earshot Franklin turned to me.
“You had a vision?” he asked urgently. I nodded.
“This is not an ordinary storm,” I whispered. “A hurricane. It will cause a title wave. By this time tomorrow, most of this island will be one with the sea.”
Franklin gasped. “What should we do?” He whispered. I turned back toward the path.
“Leave. We weren’t among those to die in the vision.” I said softly. Franklin didn’t budge.
“Are you saying we leave all of these people to die? Master, there are families here! Children! We can’t leave without warning them.”
“In my vision, this tribe was wiped from the Earth. You cannot change the future, so clearly we did not warn anyone and we will not warn anyone. We will leave.” Suddenly there was a rustle to our right. A woman stood among the plants, shaking her head.
“You have a cruel heart Great Sight,” she said. Her voice was racked with age and hate. “Are you truly going to leave an entire people to be wiped out?”
My mind whirred in that familiar way at the sound of her voice. “You are the village elder,” I said flatly, when the world had stopped spinning. “I’m sorry we won’t be staying with you tonight.”
“Are you?” She asked. “I’m surprised you know the word sorry. So you had a vision on your way here then. You saw death, and so you are running from it. Running instead of staying to fight.”
“I can’t change my visions.”
“Can’t you? Have you ever tried?” She asked, her voice eerily calm.
“Yes…once.” I said, subconsciously brushing the cut on the side of my face. The one that I had received in the accident so long ago. “It can’t be done. It’s better to let the future do as it pleases.”
“Even if it means letting people die?”
“I see people die every time I touch them. Every time I feel something touch my skin. Every time I hear their voice, I see their life laid out before me. I’ve gotten very used to death. The future likes to play with death. It likes to teach with it.”
“And what if it happens that this is just the future trying to teach you a lesson?” The woman asked with a coy smile. I stood silently, thinking it over.
“The odds are against you.” I finally said. The old woman laughed as she headed toward the village.
“We aren’t talking about odds, or science Great Sight. We’re talking about lives. And lives can do amazing things when odds are against them.” She turned, and I felt her eyes on me. “Are you prepared to go against odds, Gavin Smith?”
I jumped. “You know my name…” I began. “You know my real name…How?”
“We’re not all as gifted as you,” She said with a smile. “But some of us are also in tune with the world.” Suddenly wanting to learn more from this woman, I followed her through the rain and into the village.
Somewhere far away, across an ocean, lay a girl on a hospital bed. She did not move, but barley breathed at all. There were scars across her face and arms. Her brown hair spread limply across the pillow she was rested on. A monitor beside her hummed and beeped softly, the only sign she was still alive.
The television above her was on. The doctor had suspected she could still hear the outside world, and hadn’t wanted her to sit in silence. A news man was on the screen, talking about a small tribe that had survived an enormous title wave, thanks to the help of Great Sight.
The girl gasped slightly, and then relaxed again. No one knew when her coma would allow her to wake again, but no one had much hope for her. The clip board on the side of her bed that described her condition had remained unchanged for two years. Her name read ‘Jannette Smith’.
She had been injured in a terrible accident. There had been three victims. The second was missing. The other was killed. She had been a woman in her late thirties with two children. One was a beautiful daughter. The other was a tall, bright boy, with an amazing gift. A gift he saw as a curse.