*by Stephenie Meyer*
TWILIGHT - chapter 16 - CARLISLE
He paused, getting back into his story. Reflexively, his eyes flickered to another picture - the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung successivo to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures and swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbles balconies. I couldn't tell if it represented Greek mythology, o if the characters floating in the clouds above were meant to be biblical.
"Carlisle swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. da night he studied music, science, medicine - and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives." His expression became awed, almost reverent. "I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, st the hospital...." Edward stared off into spazio for a long moment. Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose. He tapped his fingers against the huge painting in front of us.
"He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much più civilized and educated than the wraiths of the Londra sewers."
He touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. I examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that I recognized the golden-haired man.
"Solimena was greatly inspired da Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods," Edward chuckled. "Aro, Marcus, Caius," he said, indicating the other three, two black-haired, one snowy-white. "Nighttime patrons of the arts."
"What happened to them?" I wondered aloud, my fingertips hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.
"They're still there." He shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millenia. Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural Cibo source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try a New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, te see.
"He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity.
"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act - since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occured, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found he. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try..."
His voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly through the west windows. I wondered which immagini filled his mind now, Carlisle's memories o his own. I waited quietly.
When he turned back to me, a gentle angel's smile lit his expression.
"And so we've come full circle," he concluded.
"Have te always stayed with Carlisle, then?" I wondered.
"Almost always." He put his hand lightly on my waist and pulled me with him as he walked through the door. I stared back at the bacheca of pictures, wondering if I would ever get to hear the other stories.
Edward didn't say any più as we walked down the hall, so I asked, "Almost?"
He sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence - about ten years after I was... born... created, whatever te want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own for a time."
"Really?" I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should have been.
He could tell. I vaguely realized that we were headed up the successivo flight of stairs, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings.
"That doesn't repulse you?"
"I guess... it sounds reasonable."
He barked a laugh, più loudly than before. We were at the superiore, in alto of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.
"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to to defy Carlisle - I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.
"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression... that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl - if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."
I shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described - they alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, o più frightened then before?
"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was più than I deserved."
We'd come to a stop on front of the last door in the hall.
"My room," he informed me, opening it and pulling me through.
His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.
The western bacheca was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a Musica store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to touch because I'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.
"Good acoustics?" I guessed.
He chuckled and nodded.
He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like a band was in the room with us. I went to look at his mind-boggling Musica collection.
"How do te have these originated?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme o reason to the titles.
He wasn't paying attention.
"Ummm, da year, and then personal preference within that frame," he detto absently.
I turned, and he was looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes.
"I was prepared to feel... relieved. Having te know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel più than that. I like it. It makes me... happy." He shrugged, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad," I said, smiling back. I'd worried that he might regret telling me these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case.
But then, as his eyes dissected my expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.
"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" I guessed.
A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as te think te are. I don't find te scary at all, actually," I lied casually.
He stopped, raising his eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then he flashed a wide, wicked smile.
"You really shouldn't have detto that," he chuckled.
He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.
I backed away from him, glaring.
I didn't see him leap at me - it was much fast. I only found myself suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the soft, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around me - I was barely jostled. But I was still gasping as I tried to right myself.
He wasn't having that. He curled me into a ball against his chest, holding me più securely than iron chains. I glared at him in alarm, but he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright only with humor.
"You were saying?" he growled playfully.
"That te are a very, very terrifying monster," I said, my sarcasm marred a bit da my breathless voice.
"Much better," he approved.
"Um."I struggled. "Can I get up now?"
He just laughed.
"Can we come in?" a soft voice sounded from the hall.
I struggled to free myself, but Edward merely readjusted me so that I was somewhat più conventionally seated on his lap. I could see it was Alice, then, and Jasper behind her in the doorway. My cheeks burned, but Edward seemed at ease.
"Go ahead." Edward was still chuckling quietly.
Alice seemed to find nothing unusual in our embrace; she walked - almost danced, her movements were so graceful - to the center of the room, where she folded herself sinuously onto the floor. Jasper, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Edward's face, and I wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.
"It sounded like te were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if te would share," Alice announced.
I stiffened for an instant, until I realized Edward was grinning - whether at her commento o my response, I couldn't tell.
"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," he replied, his arms holding me recklessly close.
"Actually," Jasper said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett wants to play ball. Are te game?"
The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered that Alice was a bit più reliable than the weatherman, though.
Edward's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.
"Of course te should bring Bella," Alice shirped. I thought I saw Jasper throw a quick glance at her.
"Do te want to go?" Edward asked me, exctied, his expression vivid.
"Sure." I couldn't disappoint such a face. "Um, where are we going?"
"We have to wait for thunder to play ball - you'll see why," he promised.
"Will I need an umbrella?"
They all three laughed aloud.
"Will she?" Jasper asked Alice.
"No." She was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing."
"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Jasper's voice was catching, naturally. I found myself eager, rather than scared stiff.
"Let's go see if Carlisle will come." Alice bounded up and to the door in a fashion that would break any ballerina's heart.
"Like te don't know," Jasper teased, and they were swiftly on their way. Jasper managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.
"What will we be playing?" I demanded.
"You will be watching," Edward clarified. "We will be playing baseball."
I rolled my eyes. "Vampires like baseball?"
"It's the American passtime," he detto with a mock solemnity.