“Landon’s Diary: London to Toronto. November 2000”
Immortal girl Landon leaves Europe (and her First Teacher Adam Pierson) for a new start. This was an ongoing series as part of a RPG mailing list for Immortals and Vampires.
“Landon’s Diary: London, UK to Toronto, CA. November 2000, Part 1”
Acknowledgements
The concept of “Immortals” and “The Game” belongs to Panzer/Davis of Highlander. So it stands to reason that the character of Adam Pierson and any other Highlander characters that are likely to pop up are the creation and property of Panzer/Davis. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. Several upcoming characters will belong to their creators on the RPG list and I will point those out as they appear. Landon belongs to herself and to Rain (me).
Thank you to all my beta readers: Lorenzo, Kim, and my mother as always . . .
Landon slept off and on while on the plane from London, UK to St. John’s Airport in Newfoundland, Canada. Curled up in first class, her new friend — a tiny white kitten — in the overhead compartment, and her sword safely stowed in baggage, she relived the events of yesterday. That man seemed to always bring out the worst in her, and then she would always find herself on a plane to somewhere: San Francisco, Oregon, Miami, South Africa, home to St. Louis. Anywhere far away from London or Paris where HE was most likely to be. Yet as soon as she would arrive, Landon would crave his company again. It was a never ending cycle of chase and flee between them. At this moment, asleep over the Atlantic, Landon did not yet miss him.
Setting: Yesterday, an upscale London, UK residence
“Adam, please, don’t keep doing this to me,” Landon begged, turning off the television and leaning over the back of Adam Pierson’s lush damask couch.
“Doing what, love?” a tall, dark-haired young man replied, opening some imported bottle of German beer and handing it to Landon. He took a large swallow off his own bottle.
Landon took a smaller gulp, made a face, and said, “Look at yourself. You feed me all sorts of alcohol, address me as ‘love’. You let me live here with you, but then at the same time you tell everyone that I’m your goddaughter from America. You buy me dolls for my birthday; you won’t give me a proper kiss, let alone do anything ELSE with me. And do you know what else? I think the main reason you bought me this kitten,” Landon paused to scoop up the white ball of fur prancing across the couch cushion, “is because you feel guilty for not wanting to sleep with me.”
Adam Pierson frowned at her skeptically. “I thought you liked the cat.”
“I DO! That is not the point. I do realize that it takes some people some getting used to, but I AM older than YOU look. I’m not that frightened little teenager anymore. When you first found me and I didn’t know what Immortality meant, and you taught me I could survive. I admit, I needed all this: the father figure, the strong protector, to kiss me goodnight on the forehead. But not anymore.”
Landon set Amara Kat, named for the Latin amarantus (everlasting), back on the couch and climbed over the back of it. Adam wasn’t looking at her any longer, but rifling through a stack of papers on the counter. “Adam!”
“Hmm, what? Yes, I’m listening, Landon.”
“But you’re not hearing me. You’ve known me for over eighteen years. Why can’t you just look at me and see who I am? I’m a woman, and an Immortal. And I love you.” Landon swallowed thickly and waited.
Adam did look. He saw a girl, fourteen years old forever, with straight black hair, large dark brown eyes. He saw a short waif-like figure, clad in a red sweater and black jeans. Her bare feet peeked out beneath, the tiny toenails painted red to match the sweater, lipstick just as bright, and an overdose of black mascara, even an eyebrow ring over her right eye with a tiny red ceramic charm. A perfect devil angel child.
“Landon, I do love you. You know that.”
“But you can’t show me.” Landon spun around, turning the television back on with a vicious punching to the remote control’s buttons. Back to some movie with James Spader in it, probably Star Gate. Under normal circumstances, Landon would be popping the caramel corn. Amara Kat climbed into her lap and licked Landon’s fingers. “Scratchy tongue, but at least YOU know how to show me you love me.” Landon took a huge swallow of beer now, hating the taste as acutely as before but bearing the disgust in the name of proving herself OLD.
Adam took a stance between Landon and her glowing 40-inch screen. “That’s not fair. Any animal could lick your fingers and you wouldn’t necessarily call that love, would you?”
Landon held up a delicate hand. “Try me,” she invited without glancing up.
Adam smiled. “Perhaps later. Right now I have a plane to catch.” He snatched his digital phone from the coffee table and headed back toward the other room.
“Excuse me?!” Landon called, once again turning off her movie. “And you were going to tell me this when?”
“Uh, about... now... I guess. Oh, you can stay here of course. I wouldn’t dream of kicking you out.” He said this with the slightest hint of sarcasm. So slight, Landon didn’t catch it.
“What if I said I was going with you?”
“The plane ticket has been purchased. There’s no time—”
“And you don’t want me to go. Just say it, Adam, it’s true.”
“Landon. This is important. And urgent. And I must go alone. Please. You don’t need to get involved.”
“Business or... our sort of business?”
“Landon, don’t. It’s safer for you here.”
“It IS another Immortal! Who is it, Adam? Where are you going?”
Adam put on his long black coat. “It’s an old friend of mine. He may need some help. I’m not really sure yet. Really, Landon, darling, stay here. You know where my credit card is. And Douglas will drive you to any fancy store you’d like.”
“Adam, I don’t want to spend your money. I want you. All of you. And I want to go with you now. Wait ten minutes and I’ll be ready. I can buy a plane ticket with your credit card. How about that?” Landon took Adam’s hand away from the handle of his luggage she had failed to see minutes ago. She pleaded up at him, eyes threatening to let loose with tears. But it was a tired trick and he pulled loose from her grip, opening the door to the front patio, pale stone steps and railings twisting down to the street below.
“Not this time, Landon. I’m sorry. Please stay. But don’t feel you must. Do whatever you like.”
And Adam Pierson was gone. Douglas was driving him away in the slick, black, expensive car. Landon stormed back inside. As she packed her meager belongings, she told Amara Kat, “This is the last time that man takes me for granted. And when he sees me again, let it be at my funeral. And let him wish he’d treated me differently.” Real tears streamed down her cheeks.
Back on the plane
Adam Pierson’s credit card (though he used a different name legally) had purchased Landon a one way ticket to Toronto. First class, no expense to be ignored when HE was footing the bill. She could have slept the entire trip if it weren’t for this quick layover in St. John’s. At least her luggage would be automatically transferred from one plane to the next. She was glad she’d charged extra to have Amara Kat in the cabin with her, even though she had to schlep the pet carrier around in the terminal. Her sword was what she missed. Landon felt not quite dressed without it on her person, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about that. Landon toted her carry-on — her only real piece of luggage — and her kitten, into the airport’s coffee shop and ordered a Frapaccino.
She glanced down at the other customers, trying to force the tiredness out of her eyes and mind. There were two older gentlemen and a pretty red head in her mid-twenties. The latter was concentrating inhumanly on a book that looked to Landon like it could have been published in the 13th century. Without glancing up, the woman reached for her cup of coffee, missed, and drenched her book and self with the hot dark liquid. Mopping frantically, she suddenly paused and stared down the counter at Landon. Landon promptly looked away, her Frapaccino having arrived. She paid for it and a copy of the newest issue of People Magazine. There was something about that red-haired woman the Immortal didn’t like; though she couldn’t put her finger on what. She wasn’t an Immortal; no unmistakable Buzz had alerted Landon to that. She wasn’t a vampire; it was broad daylight. It was the way her green eyes had peered into Landon, as if with recognition.
No matter what, Landon was getting away from her. She sat down near her gate and opened the People. The 50 Sexist Men issue. Good deal. Though yucky Brad Pitt was deemed THE sexiest. Blech! Inside were rock star, Jon Bon Jovi and actor Adrian Paul. Now THEY tickled Landon the right way. Most definitely. This last leg of flight into Toronto would be all right, she thought.
to be continued
first penned November 12, 2000
revised through November 2000