I lie awake looking at the last vestiges of night wash away with the sun. I think back to my evening spent with newfound friends, and wonder if this town will offer anything that the others haven’t. I admit to myself that someone blowing their nose on my shoe is new. I pull my thoughts to the day ahead of me. I feel some twinge of regret for having put myself in the position I am in, alone, no one else of my kind anywhere near, not that I have ever really been with anyone who understood, but I lament not having someone to laugh with, and talk with about how I use my gifts, and what I want from life. I miss Angela sorely, and wonder if she regrets not pushing me to be better. There is no changing the past, so I stop moping and feeling sorry for myself. I have a high school to get to. I have no reason to go to school. I have lived for so many years I understand the basic curriculum of a high school without problem. I do however, have to fit in, and when you look 17, people start to wonder why you aren’t in school.
I steal to a quiet part of the river, there is a place where it bends, and in the bend there are some overgrown weeds and trees that shield a part of the river. It is there that I will change shape. I cannot risk being discovered, not yet. I have not been here long enough, and I am not ready to look for a new place to settle. However, discovery is often one of the only ways to find excitement, but not yet.
As I make my way to the bend I look at the water swirling around all sides of me, it feels so strong, so powerful, the current is strong, and were I mortal, it would have swept me under long before this time. It is nearly winter, and the water level is high, the river beating against the banks, and anything that dares enter. I watch the river for a time, lost in my thoughts. A million questions race through my head. This river seems so strong, and mighty, and yet it has taken the path of least resistance, and winds its way through the valley like a snake. It has let the land direct it, instead of directing the land. It is true, it cuts the land, and it eats away at it a little more each year. But, it does not set its own course, it does not decide to go where it wants, instead it goes the easy way. The path that is the easiest, the path of least resistance.
That is the path I have always taken, and look where I have ended up. Alone. Banished. I wonder if like the river I am trapped in my own embankments, beating at them wishing to get out, but knowing that it is easier to just follow the way I always have. No, not me. I am still strong, much like this river, but I have not set my own course. I have let my laziness and discontentment set it for me. Like the river, I too have taken the path of least resistance. But unlike the river, I am not trapped. I still have a choice. The question is, will I choose differently, or continue on the easy path?I do not want to think about it today. Philosophizing is for the old Boto who sit in city hall. I mentally shake myself, what has gotten into me? Banishment must have affected me more than I realize. But now is not the time to think about it. I will consider this when I am better prepared to be in a new place. In a town as small as Salmon, I will be noticed quickly, and I need to come up with a back-story so that what I tell people is consistent. I had learned the importance of a back-story several years earlier when I had found myself in a sticky situation.
I had been roaming the streets of Rome, and had manipulated my way into a nice Tartufo at Tre Saclini in the Piazza Navona, I sat enjoying the rich handmade dessert, looking at the beautiful fountain, Fontana Dei Quattro Fiumi, Four Rivers Fountain by Bernini, and street performers. Men painted green, silver, or gold and pretending to be statues, posed stoically for pictures, and enjoyed the too generous tips from tourists who were so unfamiliar with the currency they did not realize the amount they gave in order to snap a photo.
I stopped a vendor and purchased a pair of aviator sunglasses to shield my eyes from the too bright sun. I handed him the currency, and then manipulated him into handing the exact amount back to me as change. I would have gotten away with it too, but a passerby saw the exchange, and cried thief. Pickpockets are common in these tourist traps, and apparently I had chosen to venture there when the local government was trying to crack down on this problem. As a result, I got hauled in for questioning in rapid, fervent Italian.
The small man questioning me was a firm believer in using the whole body to communicate, and his flailing arms, and the spittle flying from his mouth would have been a humorous scene, had I not been too young, and too fresh to come up with a suitable lie, or manipulate my way out of it. Instead, when he asked what brought me to Rome, I could not think of a suitable answer. Now, as I look back on it, I cringe to myself, it would have been so easy to simply state that I was a tourist from America, but instead, I had sat there, numb, and dumb, and when I finally had spoken, I had said, “A plane.” The man was not impressed with my wit, and when he asked where the plane had originated, I was without an answer. My lack of a tale had landed me in a cramped Italian cell for a few hours until Angela had come to my rescue, and charmed the man into letting me out. I probably could have done it myself, once I had gathered my wits enough to realize how simple it would have been, but at the time I was too inexperienced to test the strength of my power. Now, if the experience repeated itself, I may just take the sentence for the novelty of being in jail. But, since I plan to carve a new life out for myself, a back-story is a requirement.
I need a story—one believable enough that the questions would cease. I change shape. I always think better in human form, where intellect and reason can play a part in the decision instead of just animal instinct. I know as a human I am slave to some degree of emotion, but prefer it to the lesser thoughts I have when in my boto form. Besides, I am too proud to be an animal when I can be a man. I had spent enough time as an animal on my journey here from the Amazon River.
I decide on a plan. I pull a New York Yankee’s hat out from under the rock where I have hidden the belongings I gathered on my way to Salmon. The Encantado Elders had not permitted me to return to my home for things, so I was forced to scrounge as I went. I do not mind this, as it allows me to travel light, and I know as soon as I am settled I can purchase everything I need. The hat, will do for now. Some tourist must have left it on the beach in Washington. I will use the hat to aid my story. I hope that in such a small farm town, no one would be well traveled, and I can say I am from a small town in upstate New York, without running into any relations or coincidences, or anyone that knows the town well enough to see through my bluff. I have decided Canadaigua is the perfect cover. I have only been there once, but it was just a few years back. I was living on the surface, and had joined a band. I was traveling with the group along the East Coast, and we had ended up stuck in Rochester when our flight was delayed due to weather. Because I have never been one to like sitting around, I had rented a car, and explored the surrounding areas. Canadaigua is rural. And even though my visit was brief, I recall with perfect clarity everything I had seen. It is enough to put together a believable story, and should someone be familiar with it, I know enough to say where the post office is, and what the landscape looks like. Where my lie fails, I know my power to influence thoughts will not.
Canadaigua is a farming community in upstate New York, and that adds to my story, making Salmon, ID a believable place for family of hard working farmers to move to. I will pose as an only child. This will explain why no one ever really sees my parents, as farmers are always busy, even in winter there are fences to mend, and animals to care for. It will also give me the family I need to enroll in school. While I can play at 18, instead of 17, it is easier to get into high school when you fit the age requirements. I have the basic skeleton of my plan, and know I can fill in the rest later, as necessity requires it of me. My memory is like a steel trap, so I do not fear remembering my lie, only making it believable enough without going over board.I finish off my ensemble with a pair of jeans, and slightly wrinkled t-shirt. I leer at my reflection in the river. It is choppy today, and so it is hard to make out, but I know that no matter what I wear, I will be able to make everyone like me, love me even, I can get anything I want. It is the Encantado way, a blessing and a curse. It makes a work ethic nearly impossible to come by. It also makes life fairly easy. The Encantado are the perfect con-men, good looks, and talent to woo people in, and the ability to influence thought to cinch the deal where the other aspects failed. The confidence I have in my abilities is high, as it should be, and exercising that power is a drug to me. It is a thrill each time I see someone’s mind waiver, and watch as they allow my thoughts to slowly creep into their head, as their eyes change, believing what they think is their own, original idea. It elates me. I realize now I have nothing to worry about. Who cares if I chose an easy life? It is a pleasant one. I get what I want, and do little to obtain in. I have no reason to worry, and even less reason to complain. So why am I hesitant?
Even as I think the question, I know the answer. “There is nothing fun about things that are too easy. I have never faced a real challenge, and thus have never had the pleasure of overcoming difficult. This is something I believe is necessary to be truly content.” Without effort there is never true satisfaction. This is what has gotten me to where I am now in the first place, this insatiable need for something new, something different, something challenging. Humans, particularly female humans, were always the closest thing to I had to a challenge and finding satisfaction. Manipulating them, using my charms, not my powers to attract them, that is where I find challenge, but lately it is not enough.
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