The Professor (Tentative Title) Chapter Four

CHAPTER 4-

She woke with the smell of burning brush and oil in her nose. She could taste the soot in the air. The sky was grey and heavy with smoke. Her head was splitting, she sat up gingerly. Every part of her was in some degree of ache or pain. Every muscle was tight. Then she suddenly remembered the choppers, too suddenly. As an electric bolt of pain shot across her eyes, she laid back down again.

"You're awake, good," he said, with an obvious tone of relief. "How are you feeling?"

She groaned in response.

"Here drink this," he said, helping her sit up and drink an herbal tea. When you live on the run, you learn to use some unconventional methods for health care. She took a sip and coughed.

"Ugh! This tastes like--"

"It doesn't matter what it tastes like. Drink," he ordered gently as he watched her choke down the tea. "So, what happened up there today?"

She just shrugged, didn't look at him, and muttered, "nothing."

"That was certainly something. You don't have to explain, but I would have thought you could at least let me know you're claustrophobic."

"I'm fine. I just don't like to feel... blocked in, surrounded. That's all."

He nodded, thinking there was more but not saying it. She would tell him, if and when she was ready. It was her way. She neither wanted nor needed people worrying over her, she was stronger than people thought. And incredibly curious.

"Professor," she said, putting the empty cup down, "will you please tell me? What is it you're planning?"

"We've been over this, my dear," he sighed, "I can't."

"Or won't," she retorted bitterly.

"Its for your own safety that I don't tell you. You--"

"My safety? Professor, I'm not some naive child. I'm eighteen and you know I'm not the helpless type."

He grinned despite himself, "you certainly are strong, Monroe. You're a survivor, that's good. You're going to need that attribute very soon."

"Why, what's that mean?" She asked, completely confused.

"It means that you are special. Very soon, this world will change, completely and forever. Though I cannot give you specifics just yet, I'm going to initiate a great change. And afterward, you and others in the Resistance will be at the dawning of a new era, one of peace and freedom," he paused to stoke the fire.

"How you planning to initiate this? What's the end game?"

He was stirring something in a small pot, "Well, I'm planning to end a time of terror and control. I'm depending upon you to keep up my work, your work and return this country to its former state. Maybe even make some improvements."

"And how does that effect me Professor? I'm not the one starting the change."

He nodded, "But you are the one to guide it."

She didn't know what to say. Her eyes drifted to the flames and watched for some time as they danced before her. She was only a teenager, barely old enough to drive, how on earth was she to guide such a change? Who would listen to her? The weight of what he was asking her to carry was too much. It was all starting to sound like something out of an old book she'd read once. But maybe that's what they needed, a little bit of fiction.

"Why am I to lead? Wouldn't one of your friends in the Resistance be better qualified?" she asked after a long silence.

"They aren't equipped to govern, to lead. They all have great qualities, but none of them will listen to the people. You are far more compassionate than others in the Resistance. Your reaction today about the train told me that. You'll be a lantern to the people, a guide."

She shook her head, it was too much to take in, too much to accept.

"Don't doubt yourself," the Professor told her, "follow your instincts, listen to your heart. All the rest will fall into place."

"You know, I really wish you would stop talking in riddles and confusing me with enigmas," Monroe grumbled.

The Professor grinned and took another sip of his tea. He didn't answer her underlying questions, he couldn't calm the churning uncertainty that was building in her. And the only thing she could do was trust him.